All's Said and Done
by Ms.Adventure
Summary: Follows 'Take Two' as the fourth and last in my series on Kelly and Annabelle.
1. Aftermath

_The overwhelming vote was for another story instead of a basic epilogue. So the epilogue just got longer! Thanks to all the fabulous readers who took time to enjoy and comment on my past works, it definitely kept me inspired. Hope this story continues the entertainment!_

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><p><strong>Aftermath<strong>

Kelly and Belle danced in the heart of the revelry that was St. Trinian's celebrating them both. No group on Earth can party faster, harder than the little known school on the edge of a not-so-sleepy hamlet. The music lineup was almost completely devoted to them, the Banned singing tongue in cheek through every relevant song. In the case of some - like the Tatu and Katy Perry music - they drastically improved the quality. They could be tasteless without being musically offensive.

Belle was still absently humming under her breath when Kelly looped an arm around her waist and escorted her back upstairs at 5 am. They dropped onto the Head Girl's bed. Kelly kicked her shoes off and barely managed to hold Belle's ticklish, thrashing feet still long enough to wrestle off her strappy heels. With no energy left for actually changing both girls collapsed into the pillows fully dressed. Belle instinctively tucked herself against Kelly, already making the soft purring noises of her deeper sleep.

"G'night, love." Jones murmured, pulling up the sheet to wrap around them.

"Lllllve mmm." Belle's faint mumble barely registered but made Kelly smile nonetheless. The last hindrance to her dreams now removed, the dark haired spy happily closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the peace surrounding Annabelle in her arms. Such a level of nirvana deserved to last all eternity.

It lasted exactly 174 minutes. The cell phone exploding on the nightstand with a laser light show and cacophony of music made Kelly's entire body jerk awake before her brain even processed the signal. She slapped her hand over the entire surface of the table, knocking the phone off and cursing as she rummaged for it on the floor.

"What?" she demanded when she finally found the cell and ended its hellish noises.

"Is it true then?" the rude voice on the other end of the line demanded without any greeting.

"Taylor?" Kelly groaned, recognizing the voice and wishing she'd programmed the ex-Chav's number into her phone for evasion.

"Tah, Kelly! So is it true? Did you tell Belles you love her?" Taylor repeated her question. Jones could have sworn she heard the crack of gum on the other end of the line.

"Yes! Christ, what time is it?" Kelly squinted at the clock, "Damn it, Taylor! It's not even 8!"

"You stupid, stubborn slapper! Now? You had to wait til now?" Taylor completely ignored Kelly's anger, "I had a ton on you!"

"Taylor -" Jones tried to interrupt but couldn't scythe through the rant that was clearly building steam.

"A full hundred quid that you'd pop like a party balloon! And you 'fess up now? What the hell was wrong with you that you couldn't pull your head out your arse last year and make me some money?"

"Taylor!" Kelly growled, feeling Belle stir beside her from all the noise.

"You HAD to wait 'til I couldn't collect!"

"Tay!" Kelly slammed the phone against the nightstand several times, creating a sound like gunfire over the mic, "Shut up, you bloody Chav! What are you whinging about? The Sopranos have never closed the book and you know it!"

There was dead silence from the other end of the phone. Kelly might've thought she'd damaged the phone with her violent interruption except she could hear Taylor chewing her gum.

"Right. You tell the Twins I'm coming for my money." the former St. Trinian announced firmly.

"Oh, I'll be sure the girls know." Kelly smiled, hanging up. The first person she'd be telling was Zoe. The welcome the Sopranos arranged would be nothing compared to what the Emo tribe would do when they found out a Chav Matriarch was returning.

Jones finished tapping the information into an SMS and dropped the phone back to the floor. She grumbled a few more unhappy opinions about rude girls and rolled back into Belle's arms. The younger girl was smiling faintly, having drifted towards consciousness long enough to follow a bit of what was going on. Her hair was strewn across her face and Kelly reached out, fondly combing the strands away from her cheeks. The smile twitched a bit wider and a soft sigh deepened her breathing. The older girl felt an answering sigh drift from her lips as she settled close enough to feel the warmth of Belle's skin on her face as she returned to her dreams.

Not 87 minutes later another rude noise shattered the utopian stillness. This time it was Belle's cell. Followed shortly by Kelly's, again. The intermixing music created a discord that made both girls cringe into the pillows. Kelly's laptop dinged repeatedly with new emails arriving and her Skype phone decided to join in on the act. The news of last night's romantic expressions had obviously traveled quickly. Former Trinian's from all over the world were calling to verify, congratulate and collect.

"Enough! Belle growled and crawled across Kelly, falling part way out of the bed. She struggled to her feet, tangled in the sheets and gathered up all the blinking, flashing, ringing and singing devices. Kelly raised herself on one elbow to watch as Annabelle dumped everything in a rubbish sack and tied it off with her robe sash. With a gesture of pure loathing she dropped the bundle out the window, pinning the sash so the bag hung helpless two stories in the air where all the lights and noise could only molest and confuse passing pigeons.. With the window closed and shades drawn the room was once again draped in blissful stillness. Even the morning light mellowed.

"I hate them all." the younger girl mumbled as she collapsed back onto the bed, allowing Kelly to pull her into a comfortable position. Their limbs easily tangled around each other, creating a web that couldn't be easily deciphered or separated.

"We'll kill them later." Jones agreed, rubbing mindless, calming circles on Belle's spine.

"Promise?" Annabelle's hazel eyes were already hidden beneath heavy lids. Weeks of poor sleep combined with the previous day's emotional intensity and the all night party had both of them nearly comatose with exhaustion and relief.

"Slowly and painfully." Kelly affirmed with a yawn. The offenders were lucky they weren't already dead. The two Head Girls needed a few hours sleep before they could even begin to formulate plans. Perhaps something would come to them in a dream.

Kelly was deep in a happy dream that was 80% memory of her trip with Belle to France, with the addition of a blue Panda and all the buildings being suspended by balloons. They were just about to vandalize the Louvre pyramid and call it art when balloons started popping on all sides with a sound like gun shots. Kelly felt Belle's hand yanked from her own as the noise got closer and she jerked awake in a panic, fists frantically clinging to the brunette.

"Kelly!" the rapid noise like gun shots repeated on the door. Polly always had a knock like a semi-automatic weapon; had to be all the caffeine.

"Go to hell!" Jones snapped, refusing to be lured from her pillow even once more by the attention circus. A glance at the clock told her they'd been granted almost 2 hours of sleep between interruptions this time. At this rate they'd have a full 8 hours rest by dusk.

"Kel, did you send the director a resignation over email?" Polly demanded, her tone a mixture of criticism and annoyance. Kelly made a noise of irritation deep in her throat and rose part way off the bed to be sure of clear vocal projection. It took a good bit of lung power to be understood through sound proofing.

"Yes, I bloody well did. If she needs something more official I'll send the Twins up with some napalm to make it final! Now fucking go away!" she dropped back against the pillow, relieved to hear footsteps retreating from the door.

Belle had woken the moment she felt Kelly's fingers dig into her arm and spine, instinctively recognizing the panic of the grip. She gazed at her girlfriend's (it still thrilled her to think of Kelly in those terms ) angered expression. She reached up and gently ran her fingers over the tense muscles of her jaw, soothing the irritation away. Belle wanted to ask about Kelly's job, about the resignation, the reasons, the future. She knew better. The older girl was tired and didn't want to think right now, just enjoy the present moments without the pressure of the future hanging over them.

"I thought I was the bad morning person." Annabelle quipped, pleased to see Kelly's dark visage relax into a smile.

"It's almost noon. Doesn't count." Kelly answered, accepting an affectionate kiss as reward for her behavior. Belle drew a pattern of light kisses over her jaw, cheek, ear and eyes before settling against her lips once more. A few more hours. In a few more hours they'd deal with life and reality and the future it held.

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><p>By 2 in the afternoon Kelly was finally willing to rejoin the world of conscious interactions. Even though she could've easily spent another 5 hours asleep, she still had her Head Girl's instinct that demanded she be up and functioning before the school fell completely to shreds. Annabelle muttered some meager protest as Kelly massaged, tickled and kissed her awake. Hard to object to the attention.<p>

Once she was certain the younger Head Girl was awake and willing to consider getting up, Kelly rose and padded across the floor. Her first mission was retrieving the bundle of their cells and laptops, still suspended out the window. Rummaging her cell from the rescued bag of electronics she thumbed through the myriad messages. _Too tedious to go through all of them. _Kelly arched one brow and deleted the whole mass. She was just about to throw the phone down when it vibrated in her hands in some preemptive protest. It was a number that demanded attention. Kelly sighed and tapped to answer.

"Hello?"

" _What are you thinking, Jones? This is not a corner Tesco damn it! We're MI7, you either get killed or fired!" _Director Hall's voice had the tone of a woman who'd been dumped, arrested and started her period all in the same day. Belle had sat up in bed and was watching her intently, able to clearly hear the loud voice on the other end of the phone. Kelly genuinely liked and respected her boss. Possibly as much as Headmistress Fritton. So she decided to suppress her initial 'f-off' instinct.

"I imagined as much, which is why I didn't come in to tell you I was quitting the service." Jones pointed out. Granted, a terse email wasn't the most professional resignation. Particularly when the wording was something along the lines of 'Sod the mountains, the terrorists and this job. Keep it.' She'd been a bit emotional when they finally got out of that frozen isolation. There's a reason Dante made the 9th circle of hell a lake of ice. Lucifer was probably better company than Terri.

"_Are you going to make me send in an extraction team for the two of you?"_

"Might not be the best press. Secret government agency invading an all girls school? And quite possibly losing, given our success rate." Kelly smirked, winking at Belle.

There was a long string of curses on the other end of the phone. The director had an impressive vocabulary, as would be expected of someone who'd risen to the top of a department populated with narcissists and adrenaline junkies.

"_This is about your girl isn't it? Hell. I knew this would happen when you finally got serious!"_

"What are you talking about?" Kelly kept her voice as blank as her expression. She'd bluffed her way through a lot of bad hands and wasn't about to give herself away right now, no matter how surprised she truly felt.

"_Please, Jones. I'm not a fool. I knew you'd been sneaking around with your St. Trinian's sweetheart since before I transferred you into MI7. Part of why I decided to pull you to my department; you were obviously already adept at subterfuge." _there was a hint of a smirk in her tone.

"You knew." Kelly echoed, feeling a little numb. Belle reached out and took her hand, running her thumb over her fingers. It was rare for anyone to be one up on the former Head Girl and a bit unnerving.

"_I don't care if you're shagging a man, woman or Brazilian Spectacled Bear. It never interfered with your job. In fact, I think it made you better a few times. I just don't want it costing me one of my best agents. Two in fact, since if you quit I know Polly will as well and I can't afford that. She's the only one that knows what she did to our whole bloody system."_

"I can make sure she fixes all the administrative functions and firewalls. I think she was just sick of Terri downloading viruses." Kelly wasn't sure if Hall was right about Polly. They were close friends but there was no reason for the Geek to walk away from the job just because she did. Except the spy instinctively knew that she would. Polly took the job because Kelly wanted her around, she'd quit for the same reason. They'd made too good a team for too long to break up the act now. Besides, Polly would likely want to protect her investments - she still had a lot of money riding on Belle and Kelly's future relationship.

"_I have a better idea: neither of you leaving. Your girl is a St. Trinian isn't she? I can always use another. I'm compromising here, Jones. I'll let you bring her into the team, she can bypass the tests. Hell, she can even replace Terri. I wouldn't mind having a full team of Fritton's pupils. Camilla's Demons I should think."_

Belle didn't quite catch what was being said on the phone but the look in Kelly's eyes made her chew her lip. The darker girl looked furious and terrified at the same time. Jones signaled that she had to step outside a moment and slid out the door. Belle could hear her on the other side of the door, her voice a low growl as she rebuked the listener in elaborate and explicit terms.

Realizing that Kelly was just winding up for a very long tongue-lashing Belle decided to get on with the business of rising. Distant explosions and screams told her they'd let themselves lie-in longer than usual. Time to get back to the business of controlling anarchy.

The escalating argumentative tones became white noise as she stripped and flung her wrinkled uniform into the laundry. She climbed into the shower, planning to be quick. Ever since her first shower at St. Trinian's she'd gotten in the habit of racing through her ablutions. It was never wise to be naked and vulnerable for long around these delinquents. Even though she had the safety of a private bathroom (one she'd used for a year and a half now) she still felt the urgent need to shampoo, soap and rinse as rapidly as possible.

She was just rinsing the conditioner when the curtain rustled and she spun, shoving her fear under a mask of indignation. She swallowed the sharp reaction when Kelly's black eyes flashed at her. Belle finally understood what it meant to be wearing nothing but a smile. She wore it well.

"Quicker if I join you." Jones stepped into the shower and ducked under the tap, soaking her hair.

"Not usually." Belle smirked but made room in the tiny stall, passing over the soap. Kelly was all but radioactive with some happy secret, her smile verging on laughter as they washed and teased.

"What that was all about then?" Belle finally lost her patience, curiosity bubbling out.

"I quit MI7." Jones shrugged, reaching past her for the shampoo bottle.

"I figured that much." Belle pulled the bottle away and squirted some into her hand. Gesturing for Kelly to turn around she worked the fragrant gel into her black hair. Jones was a cat at heart and a good head rub was always a quick way into her brain. Massaging her fingers through her hair and into her scalp Belle leaned close, listening to the satisfied sigh that trickled out of Kelly's lips.

"Your boss make you a good offer?" she pushed again, feeling Jones nod ever so slightly.

"Perfect." Kelly murmured but it was hard to know if she was talking about the job or the hands working over her head.

"Are you going to tell me?" Annabelle kept her voice soft and low.

"Eventually." Jones teased, leaning into the massage. Belle let out a frustrated breath and shoved Kelly's head under the tap. The former Head Girl just laughed and rinsed out the shampoo before shutting off the tap. She shook her head, sending drops cascading in every direction before accepting the towel Belle held out.

Once they were both in robes and towels, Kelly grabbed Annabelle's hand and dragged her back to the bedroom. The spy was grinning as she sat on the bed and pulled Belle down beside her, holding both her hands.

"I'm not leaving MI7."

"Oh." Belle could only swallow so much of her disappointment, some of it bled through in her voice. She'd truly hoped that with their feelings in the open, with the itinerant job demands out of the way, they'd finally have a chance at a normal relationship. The kind where they weren't always having to decide whether to skip breakfast cause it was their last chance for a month to sleep in together.

"I won't be a field agent anymore. Hall wants me to be a mission coordinator and handler. I'll never have to leave home office. In London." Kelly watched as the words slowly sank in, bringing increasing degrees of brightness back to Annabelle's eyes as she understood the full impact.

"For good?" Annabelle threw her arms around Kelly's neck.

"Forever. But," Kelly made Belle hold off on the celebratory embrace, "I have to do quite a bit of training first. If I'm to coordinate jobs and intel with branches all around the world, I'll have to learn all their procedures and personnel. Probably two or three months at each satellite office."

"How many are there?" Belle had the sinking feeling that this was going to be even worse than Kelly's last job. The end result was a fabulous promise, but how long would it take to get there?

"I'd have to do the 10 major ones at least. Possible one or two more depending on our international position over the next few years."

"Kelly . . ." what could she say? Next few years. Belle let her arms drop to her sides, hands suddenly feeling like deadweight. At a bare minimum, with ten branches of 2 months each, she was looking at not seeing Kelly for almost two years. Just the thought made her heart ache and she was having trouble getting a deep breath. Kelly read the panic and pain etching across the younger girl's expression and quickly cradled her face in both hands, forcing her eyes to focus and listen before getting sucked into the fear.

"Belle, there'll be a furnished flat in each branch city and the director has promised me they all have beds big enough for two. You're coming with me."

"What?" Belle gaped, her mind screeching as it slammed into reverse gear with no warning. Kelly's eyes danced happily, affection smoldering in her gaze.

"They'll pay my fare and I have more than enough savings for your flights. You wanted to see the world, didn't you? Now you can. We can." she sighed as Belle hugged her tight, burying her face in her shoulder, awash with amazed relief.

"I do have money, remember." Annabelle finally leaned back, smile sparkling in her eyes.

"Oh right, the Shakespeare inheritance." Kelly had almost forgotten that the undiscovered play contributed a healthy amount of royalties to St. Trinian's and the two Fritton descendents who'd found it.

"My own as well. My trust came to me when I turned 18, no more being tied to daddy's purse strings." Annabelle had gone over the numbers with Bursar (away from her aunt's nosy questions) and come away only with the conclusion that she now had more money than she could ever use.

"In that case, Miss Fritton, you can romance me with style." Kelly smirked, running her fingers through Belle's still wet hair.

"I thought I already did that." the brunette quipped.

"Right, so you do. Then how about romancing me with absolutely tasteless expense?"

"I'll get right on ordering some garish gifts. Would you prefer your coat to be mink or alligator skin?"

"Best skip the mink. It's already quite warm in Brazil this time of year."

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><p><em>So, the two girls are about to go into the world. I know what they'll be doing but also welcome any thoughts on adventures you'd like to see.<em>


	2. Around the World I

**Around the World I**

When Belle and Kelly told Camilla about their plans the Headmistress had immediately offered for Annabelle to finish her exams early. She saw no reason to delay departing on such a grand adventure. 'Patience is an invitation to delay,' was her explanation. Belle, however, didn't want to abandon her beloved St. Trinian's any sooner than necessary. She couldn't put it into words but the thought of leaving before the rest of her classmates, of not being present for the last days of the term in all their dangerous, reveling glory . . .it made her feel sick at heart to imagine missing those final special moments. She didn't have to explain to Kelly; the older girl understood intimately the exact emotions she struggled to express. Jones simply squeezed her hand for reassurance and booked the plane tickets for the week after graduation.

Camilla was secretly pleased to see her niece's display of attachment to the school that had become her home. The dauntless headmistress would never admit it aloud but she wasn't as keen on Annabelle's plans as she pretended. It sounded fabulous, of course; flying around the world, spending months in various countries without cost or paperwork headaches. It was just that the senior Fritton had for some time been hoping her niece would want to stay on at the school, to carry on the tradition of Frittons at St. Trinian's. Instead, she'd have to hope that globetrotting for a few years would satisfy Belle's wanderlust and that she'd yet return to her only true home. Both her and Kelly.

It was good they stayed. It was worth it just to sit on the stairs with a bag of sweets and witness the epic fight when Roxie found out Chelsea had signed a contract with a modeling agency that catered mostly to men's magazines. She'd hired JJ French as her agent and the former Totty pulled through in spades. The encore was even better when Roxie used her former music world connections to score a gig as an opening act for The Saturdays. It was a full European tour. It would take nearly 4 months. Chelsea was not pleased, to say the least. The row lasted the better part of a day and the makeup ravaged one of the art supply rooms. When the two blondes were spotted walking back into the dorm with smudges of pastel and glitter on their clothing everyone knew they'd reached an amicable conclusion. At no less than 17-3!

Amidst the business of wrapping up the school term came one responsibility unique to the Head Girl. She had to make a recommendation for her replacement. Ultimately, it would be her aunt who chose the next Head Girl but Annabelle's suggestion would heavily weight the decision. She tapped her pen against her teeth as she reviewed her list. Kelly lay on the bed, watching every movement of her mouth and occasionally letting out a sigh of neglect. Belle smirked.

Anoushka, Chelsea and Roxie were graduating with her. The quiet Russian would be returning home to start learning the ropes of a mafia empire her family had been part of since the time of the Czars. She'd already negotiated for distribution rights on Trinski.

Lucy, Zoe and Bianca were all too deeply enmeshed in the politics of the tribes. Zoe had almost succeeded in hanging Bianca just last week. If the Chav hadn't had a box cutter in her pocket she would've been another headstone on school grounds. Bianca had then trapped Zoe in the Totty's spray tan booth and airbrushed her to a healthy bronze that no amount of makeup could cover.

Even if the whole school respected them, the Twins were still too young. They'd be leaders long before they were in Sixth Form but it wasn't yet time for them to reign.

Frowning, Belle circled the name that her eyes kept dancing over. It made the most sense. She nodded to herself and began writing the letter of recommendation. Up to Auntie from there.

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><p>"I'm telling you the flight attendant knew!" Belle argued as she and Kelly walked into their new home, dumping bags unceremoniously on the floor. They'd been in the air for almost 14 hours plus an additional 5 in airports before arriving at their accommodations in Rio de Janeiro.<p>

"She didn't. Why would she? I told her plain and simple that you needed help with your skirt catch." Kelly shrugged, her smile unshakable.

"She banged on the door because we'd been in the lavatory for twenty minutes!" Belle blushed as she recalled the interrupting noise. Kelly laughed at the color flushing her cheeks and sprawled onto the couch, grateful to stretch out. MI7 had only two styles of lodging: utilitarian or pretentious love nest. She was relieved to see they'd been given the more restrained style. The sparsely furnished and decorated flat was ample for girls who'd spent most of their lives in dorms.

"And she went away soon as I told her we were taking turns." Jones grinned. Fritton tried to hold a scolding glare but found it slipping as she recalled the high altitude interlude. Why did she always let Kelly get her into those situations? It didn't help that Kelly just _had_ to make sure she left love bites in the exact spots Belle's collar couldn't hide from the staring eyes of the customs officials. Belle pushed one stretched leg out of the way to make space on the sofa and dropped down beside her. Jones readjusted to slip her legs across Belle's lap, closing her eyes peacefully. The small flat had a balcony and the doors were open, a fragrant breeze filling the air around them. It was past midnight and the city was quiet enough to let in the distant sound of ocean.

They sat quietly, marveling at being halfway around the world and together. This was to be the first in a long succession of foreign countries, temporary homes and new experiences. Annabelle had been so staggered by the prospect she hadn't really thought of what she'd do once she was here. Now the question was beginning to gnaw at her. Kelly would be busy most of the week; away at MI7's branch office training, studying and learning. What was she supposed to be doing all that time?

"Kel," she glanced over to be sure at least one eye fluttered open to listen, "Do you start tomorrow?"

"Day after. Thought we could go to the beach tomorrow. You haven't lived until you've seen me in a bikini." Kelly winked. The innuendo was lost because Annabelle's mind had wandered further into the future than the present conversation.

"What about after?" she wondered absently.

"You won't have to ask that once you see the bikini."

"Kel!" Belle swatted her with a throw pillow, "You know what I mean! You'll be away all day, forty hours a week. What am I to do with all that time?"

"Oh, that's easy. You'll spend all day cleaning and cooking and then greet me at the door with a martini wearing nothing but an apron." Kelly laughed before Belle shoved her completely off the couch. The spy rolled over onto her back on the floor, still chuckling.

"Perhaps I'll start a local Posh Totty service." the brunette crossed her arms in a sulk. She had undoubtedly learned far too many tricks from Chelsea and her friends.

"You'd get bored far too quickly with those wankers. I've spoiled you," Kelly climbed off the floor and went to her valise, pulling out a sheaf of papers, "I thought about this too, Belle; all the time you'll have. Obviously there's plenty to do and see. You can find the most interesting local attractions for us to explore when I'm off but you'll still have a lot of spare time on your hands."

"I can't even imagine what that's like after St. Trinian's." Belle shook her head. The thought of being alone and completely without the diversion of deadly explosions or tribe wars sounded deathly boring. She hadn't known true silence since the day she crossed the infamous school's threshold. Kelly nodded and sat back down next to her.

"Tell me about it. Why do you think I went into espionage? Look, I know you haven't thought much about what to do for work - what with being filthy rich and all - but I was reading through our old letters and it hit me. You should do this professionally, Belle." Kelly opened the bundle of pages, revealing all the saved letters and emails Belle had written her.

"What, write porn?" Belle eyed her skeptically.

"If you're so inclined. Not that the idea thrills me," Kelly rolled her eyes, "No, Belle. The stories you included, they're brilliant. You're a natural writer. Which isn't so surprising considering your bloodline, right?"

"Those aren't stories, Kel, it's just what was going on around me at school."

"Still takes skill to make it interesting. Newscasters prove everyday just how boring facts can be. There are people who can make fiction dull, Belle, but here you have a gift for telling the truth and making it better than imagination. It's like reality TV but actually entertaining. You have a stock of experiences and anecdotes that could fill a whole bookshop!"

"I was only there 2 years, Kel. Hardly that much material to work with." Belle protested but her eyes were already starting to flicker as her brain cycled through the myriad dramas, comedies and adventures she'd witnessed. This was going to work, Jones knew it. She could tell from the way Belle's right hand was already twitching like she wanted a pen. She'd spent almost 2 years watching the girl write in her journal and then reading her letters and knew, without a doubt, that she was a born writer.

"Which is why it's even better that they're based on real events. When you run out of stories, we'll just go home for a visit." Kelly's eyes shone happily.

Annabelle noticed that they both instinctively thought of St. Trinian's as home. It was comforting to know that no matter how far they traveled, or how long, the familiar stone skeleton that housed the spirit of anarchy would always be waiting for them to return.

"I suppose I could redo a few of these as short stories. Have to polish them up a bit." Belle hesitantly took the bundle of letters and thumbed through them. Kelly could see the younger girl's brain starting to get absorbed in the words as she scanned the pages. She was torn between pleasure at her victory and jealousy of the attention the pages were now receiving.

"You'll have plenty of time when I'm away. No fair ignoring me while I'm here." she reached to slide the pages away, only to have them pulled out of reach. Annabelle turned slightly to protect the papers as she mouthed the words.

"I just want to find a place to start. Only a minute." Belle's voice was distant. She was far removed to a different space and time in her head. Kelly sighed. She should've known better than to offer this solution now. Fritton would likely stay up all night if she let her.

"If you think I'm going to sleep in a new bed alone you're right out your mind." she got to her feet.

"Just a minute!" Belle protested. She'd grabbed a pen from the end table and was starting to make notes in the margins.

"Oi! Those are my copies! No scribbling." Kelly caught Belle's wrist to pry the pen away. It would be just like Annabelle to start editing her own love letters. She rather thought the occasional typo was cute. For obvious reasons, the very best letters had the most errors.

"I had an idea!" Belle argued, trying to keep control of her writing instrument. She couldn't hang onto both the pen and the papers and she yelped as they began to slide from her lap, grabbing for them with both hands, effectively surrendering the fight.

"I've read those letters dozens of times, Belle. Trust me, your best ideas don't belong on paper. But here's one," Kelly capped the pen and stuck it safely in her jacket pocket, "It involves giving you five minutes while I go wash up. If you aren't done by then I will come _carry _you to bed."

"Deal. Can I have the pen back?" Belle asked hopefully.

"Sure. You just have to wrestle me to the ground first." Jones winked, half hoping she'd try. Belle just gave her an exasperated sigh and went back to reading, picking out a different page at random. Kelly left silently, mentally laying odds of 3-2 she'd have to carry out her threat.

If she'd known the contents of the specific letter Belle had started reading she might've raised it as high as 9-1. Annabelle had forgotten about this one. She'd written it back when they were first separated and she wasn't sleeping at all at night because the bed was too big and empty. So, instead of sleeping she'd composed letters; dozens of them, pouring out every thought and feeling that raced through her mind in the lonely dark. Memories of sensations blended with future desires in words that almost shook as they spilled out of her pen. The raw need radiated off the page.

Belle registered the sound of a tap running as Kelly washed her face. A mischievous smile crossed her lips as she tossed the pages onto the coffee table. She'd just had an even better idea than the rest.

* * *

><p>Director Hall smiled as she sipped her tea, reading the report from Brazil. Polly had indeed chosen to stay close to Jones. She would be setting up a faster, more secure mainframe and server for MI7's global communication network. Which, according to the branch administrator in Rio, meant ripping their entire system to shreds and rebuilding it from the ground up while calling down evil on all their ancestors. The Geek had gone over a few days before the other girls and already instilled in the whole office an unholy fear of all things St. Trinian. The report was late because she'd locked them all out of their computers for four days while she scoured the big iron.<p>

Then Kelly had arrived and the office truly went to pieces. Hall laughed, reading between the lines of "tenacious, observant and communicative," to see that Jones had obviously taken people to task for not following protocol or just being shite at their jobs. Officially, she was there to get familiar with the different branch's personnel and methods. Unofficially, Hall knew that Kelly would be refining them all to her more elite standards and purging irritants. Her deadly, cold stare would make whole volumes of procedural handbooks redundant.

It had been the director's ultimate ace to play. Once she found out Kelly would sooner die than risk Annabelle facing the dangers of MI7 she'd used the one solution that would let her keep Kelly and let Kelly keep Belle. Two and a half to three years traveling the world together, how could Jones say no? It was even the job Hall had wanted for Jones all along: global moderator. A St. Trinian's Head Girl was ideal for coordinating the chaos and egos of an international spy network. Ruling anarchy was her gift.

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><p><em>This section of the story may end up being a bit disjointed as I jet the girls around the world. Will try to remember all the suggestions - please keep 'em coming and keep reviewing!<em>  
><em>SailorS - this is as close as you're getting to airplane sex. But I do like the way your mind works!<em>


	3. Around the World II

_What havoc could two St. Trinian's cause in the upstart states? I actually had to cut this chapter short because I came up with few too many ideas. They'd never get to leave. _

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><p><strong>New York<strong>

Belle adjusted her cable and blew out a soft breath of frustration. Leave it to Kelly. They'd managed to exhaust the entertainment possibilities of Manhattan island and so Jones had announced they were taking a road trip to Boston. Not that Belle didn't love the plan and think it was brilliant. Why did Kelly's genius had to involve abseiling down the front of a multistory building at 4 in the morning? There wasn't enough coffee in the world for this. _Only for a prank._

"Almost there, Belle, you can release your line." the lilting voice from below instructed in clear tones of happy excitement. Fritton obeyed, dropping onto a ledge that was no more than two feet wide. She swayed for a moment as her heel hung in thin air. Jones quickly caught her and pulled her against herself and the brick façade.

"Careful, luv. Can't be losing you yet." Jones applied a small kiss to her cheek.

"I hate heights." Belle muttered, looking over the edge to the quiet, solid cement below. How many stories was this heap anyway? She tucked her face back against Kelly's shoulder, suppressing a shudder.

"What, you turning into Andrea on me?" Jones teased but kept both arms wrapped securely around the brunette until she calmed.

"I didn't say I'm scared of them. I said I hate them. Let's just hurry up and get this done." Belle stepped away from Kelly and slid along the prominence, keeping one hand secure on her line. Jones paused a moment, watching Belle scowl at their elevation and felt a small smile of affectionate pride curl her lips. _Ticked off by fear. That's my girl. _She shook herself from the momentary reverie and dropped her satchel to the ground, quickly pulling out the rolls of cloth.

"Still can't believe you got Lucy to send these." Belle shook her head and helped unfurl the banners.

"That was the easy part. It was far harder convincing her to _make_ them." Kelly attached the appropriate lengths of steel cable to the edges of the banner and paced backwards along the ledge, stretching it out between them.

"She does hate leaving the stock exchange unsupervised," Belle agreed, "Last time she stepped away the younger girls tried to get controlling interest of The Talkback Thames production company."

"Why?" Kelly pulled out a Hilti Gun and checked the cartridge.

"They wanted to meet Richard Ayoade. Took Lucy days to get the portfolio value back under control. How'd you get her to do this design, then?" Belle looked over the massive lettering. It would definitely be eye-catching.

"Told her that if she didn't, I'd be telling Chels who released those pics of her asleep to the tabloids." Kelly smiled. The former Posh Totty had been furious; her burgeoning career was momentarily threatened when the market was flooded with photos of her drooling on herself. The undaunted JJ French had navigated her through the media circus and she'd emerged with a self-deprecating smile, more popular than ever.

"Nice." Belle nodded in admiration. Kelly moved rapidly along the ledge, shooting the nails through the cable rings. She'd planned ahead carefully; once these signs were up there was no way they'd come down easy. The cracking noise of the powder actuated gun rang in their ears.

"Right, that'll bring security down in short order. Let's move." Jones shoved her equipment back in the satchel, slung it over her shoulder and grabbed the abseil line. Belle mirrored the move, hooking back onto her own cable and leaning out from the edge. Kelly took up an identical posture, grinning like a Cheshire cat, her perfect white teeth set off by the all black stealth garb.

"Race you down?" the spy's eyebrows danced.

"What will I win?" Belle mulled over the challenge. There wasn't a lot of time for their escape but she never rushed into wagers with Kelly.

"A drink?"

"Make it coffee and a kiss and you're on."

"Deal. One, two -,"

"Three!" Belle dropped off the edge, slithering down her line at a suicidal speed. Kelly cursed in surprise and followed. There was no way she'd be catching up. The girl was a damned superwoman when there was coffee in the picture. Belle heard the approaching footsteps before she even touched ground. _Bugger. Time to think fast._ She unhooked herself, crashing to the cement and rolling to her feet. The security couldn't come around this side of the building, it would ruin everything. She spotted Kelly still sailing to the earth. Seconds made a difference here. Annabelle stripped off her shirt and dropped it to the ground before racing around the corner.

"Bloody hell!" Kelly breathed, watching her girlfriend strip and bolt around the building. She landed as quietly as possible, straining to hear with every inch of her skin. She could hear Belle's steps, irregular and unpredictable, like she was staggering. Then came the low, surprised voice of the security man.

"What're you doing out here?"

"Oi! Have you see my shirt? I swear I left it under the sofa but I can't bloody find it!" Belle's singsong voice slurred loud in the predawn stillness. Kelly covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. She was Camilla Fritton's niece, no question.

"Miss, where have you come from? Who were you with?" the security man sounded like he'd dealt with this situation several times a day for years now.

"With? Oooh, no, no, no. No kiss and tell! Lips are sealed, mine are!" Annabelle let out the sort of giggling squeal that earned the Posh Totty £9 per minute on the call line. Jones pulled off her knit cap and gloves, shoving them into her satchel and gathering up Belle's shirt.

"Miss, Miss!" his voice moved like he was trying to chase Belle, "Where have you been? What house?"

"House? House party! House boat? Boat house! Have you seen the boats? Bloody brilliant! Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream -," she burst into song. Belle actually had a beautiful singing voice after a year of music classes with Roxie but right now she deliberately stayed half a tone flat. Kelly paused to muss her hair before rearranging the buttons of her shirt, making certain they didn't line up right. Annabelle had chosen the skit, she just had to play along.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you. Lost your shirt again, you stupid slapper." Kelly marched over to where Belle was hanging off the security man's shoulders, still singing at the top of her lungs. _Jackpot!_ He couldn't be older than 24 and even in the dark she could see he was blushing from the naked torso pressed against him. The younger girl looked at her and straightened up, overcorrecting and nearly falling except the guard caught her. A gentleman. Even better.

"My shirt! I missed my shirt! You found it!" Belle's face lit up and she gave Kelly a very quick wink. She staggered away from the man holding her elbow and threw her arms around Kelly's neck instead.

"Thanks for finding her, lord knows where she might've ended up. I'm bloody lost myself!" Kelly smiled at the security. At this point, with a drunk, half-naked girl on display, there was no way he was thinking about the 6 resonant shots that had ricocheted around the buildings minutes ago.

"Lost? I lost my shirt." Belle chimed in with blissfully ignorant innocence. She was doing her best impersonation of Chelsea and it was almost more than Kelly could stand.

"No, I found your shirt, remember? I'm sorry, could you show us the way out? I'm a bit confused and she couldn't find her arse with both hands right now." Kelly implored as earnestly as possible. Belle gave her side a nasty pinch for that jibe.

"Of course. It can be a bit disorienting at night. This way." he nodded and led them around the maze of buildings. Kelly actually knew a quicker route than the one he chose. He was probably enjoying the show. Annabelle alternated between dancing and hanging off the dark-haired girl's neck, happily humming a nonsensical song. Kelly had to bite her lip, Belle occasionally capitalizing on the guard's distraction to let her mouth explore skin.

"This is where we came in! I know that café! Best lattes!" Belle excitedly pointed across the road when they reached the edge of the property, "Can we get a latte? Pleeeeease?"

"Thanks for showing us out." Kelly smiled gratefully at the guard, ignoring Belle's dramatic pleading.

"You might want to get her back in her shirt before you hit the street." the guard nodded, tipping his cap before he turned and walked away.

"I reeeeeeally want a mocha!" Belle whined, carefully watching the back of the retreating figure over Kelly's shoulder as she played with strands of black hair. When he disappeared behind one of the buildings she pulled back, grinning.

"Saved your arse again, Jones." she smirked. Kelly laughed, threading her fingers through Belle's hair and letting one thumb stroke her cheek.

"Christ, I love you." she grinned before wiping the smug smile off Belle's lips with a scorching kiss. Annabelle clutched at her neck and shoulders, hanging on for dear life until Kelly finally let her up for air. She gasped for breath against the older girl's neck, hands still clenching tight to her body. She took a deep breath, licking her lips. The tingling taste of Kelly's mouth lingered on her tongue.

"You still," she had to take another gasp, "Owe me a coffee."

"You have to put your shirt back on first." Kelly laughed. Belle pouted but struggled back into the garment, noting the slight flash of longing in Jones' black eye when the scarlet lace of her bra disappeared from view. Their fingers slid together comfortably as they walked, hand in hand, away from the buildings swathed in ignorant silence.

The light of sunrise illuminated three massive red banners suspended from Harvard's Widener Library, just above the ensigns already hanging from the famous pillars. Two giant flags of St. Trinian's logo flanked the center streamer. The hanging sign bearing Harvard's motto, _Veritas_, now flew below the massive words: _In Vino. _It took the whole day for a maintenance crew to scale the building and cut them down. By then every newspaper in Boston carried the headline: Harvard Yard, Truth in Wine. The accompanying photo made it all the way back to Camilla, who had it framed and hung in her office.

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><p><strong>Los Angeles<strong>

The clandestine lounge in downtown LA had a delightful fusion of old Hollywood glamour with modern Californian club. A live band rotated through selections of Jazz, Latin, Big Band, Classical and occasionally surrendered the floor to a House DJ for a few faster paced dances. The dais circling the dance floor held rings of dining tables and plush booths for intimate conversation and crowd watching. It was in one of these dimly-lit, luxurious nooks that Belle reclined next to Kelly, listening to Polly. The Geek didn't stay in their various assignment locations as long as her former schoolmates so they always capitalized on their short time together. The redhead was currently regaling her with the spy's latest fit of temper.

"When she calls the local supervisor over to ask why there's no swipe pad on the experimental weapons locker he just says they've never needed one. She almost pulled out her pistol." she was smirking at Kelly's pained expression.

"He babbled some shite about professional respect and an honor system and I'm pretty sure he pissed off to smoke another joint. It's ludicrous contracting these people." Jones rolled her eyes in irritation. Naivete and stupidity had never been part of her life at St. Trinian's; it took some adjusting.

"The Yanks aren't all bad. You liked the ones in New York office fine." Polly argued, momentarily pausing the narrative.

"They're a different breed, aren't they? This lot can't go three minutes without taking an Echinacea or swigging shots of Noni juice or whatever the hell it is that's popular this moment."

"They're just modern alchemists, trying to turn everyday ingredients into eternal life." Polly tended to be fairly broadminded about the drivel people obsessed over, having discovered at a young age that such rubbish kept them out of her hair.

"Sod that, the only elixir of life any of 'em need is right here." Kelly held up her freshly served cocktail and took a deliberate swallow. Polly and Belle echoed the sentiment, mirroring the action. The redhead gagged and spat into her napkin.

"What the hell? That's the fourth time tonight! It's a martini, the simplest drink on earth. Can't that bar imbecile get anything right?" the Geek grimaced, shoving the drink away. She'd had tremendous bad luck all evening with her orders. The Old Fashioned was ruined with orange liqueur. The Mint Julep contained Basil. The Gimlet had far too much lime. It was even more unusual because all the drinks served to Kelly and Belle had been perfect. Annabelle wondered if Polly had somehow managed to already make an enemy in their new town.

"The waitress can take it back again. What happened with the weapons?" Belle pushed the redhead's drink to the edge of the table where their server would notice the disapproval. She was getting used to having to take all of Polly's drinks back.

"What you'd expect. Middle of the night Kelly breaks into the lab and cleans out everything, _everything._ Next day the supervisor does his nut! Completely splashes his wheat-grass juice everywhere and Kelly just shrugs and says it's too bad there was no pass swipe cause then they'd know who got in last."

"That explains the small rocket launcher I found in the coat closet this morning." Annabelle tossed Kelly a faint look of disapproval. The metal had snagged and nearly torn her favorite trench. Jones couldn't restrain her small smile of conceit.

"I'll put everything back as soon as the wanker admits we need the swipe pad. Well . . .everything except the dwarf depth charges. We're lobbing those darlings into Angelina Jolie's pool."

The three laughed until they were interrupted by the waitress questioning them about the untouched drink. Having been informed that, for the fourth time tonight, the bartender had ballsed-up a beverage she made appropriate apologies and promised a fresh cocktail right away.

"You know what? Don't. It's obviously too much to handle: pouring a bit of gin in a shaker. Just make it vodka. On the rocks. Can't get that wrong, can she? Glass, ice, vodka!" Polly very seldom had any temper but ruining alcohol was a guaranteed way to make a St. Trinian lose patience. Kelly laughed at her friend as the waitress dashed away.

The Geek had changed a lot since they graduated together. She still preferred computers to people but had found humans did have their occasional, unique uses. She'd started letting Belle help her dress for their nights out back in New York and each time they went out Annabelle pushed the Geek closer to Posh Totty territory. Tonight, her red hair feathered out into a mane that spilled over naked shoulders, accenting the severe V cut of her shimmering blue cocktail dress. It was hard to know whether the eyes constantly wandering to their booth were looking at her or at Kelly and Belle's candid displays of affection.

"Ok, chica. Give this a try!" the waitress was back almost as soon as she left. The lowball glass of ice and clear liquid looked promising. Polly lifted the glass and gave it an experimental sniff.

"Must be having an off night, your bartender." Belle remarked, watching the Geek's skeptical expression.

"Or your friend cause our girl never has this much trouble," the server nodded over her shoulder to the industrious female bartender that looked (from some angles) like Penelope Cruz, "But it's no worry cause you're all too cute for words! I love your accents. You're Australian, right?"

There was a moment of fury in Kelly's eyes and her whole body tensed. Belle felt her own jaw clench. Funny, she never would've thought she'd care if someone got her nationality wrong. But really? Australian? Had she been drawling? Polly paused to watch this whole interchange. Life never had the 'pause' button you needed to slip away and make a bet!

"No. Not actually." Kelly's voice was almost as hard as her expression. The waitress didn't seem to realize the severity of her insult. Belle had shifted her hand to make sure Jones couldn't reach the revolver in her purse.

"No? What then? Wait, I know! British?"

"And proud," Kelly glared at the vacuous server, "Don't bloody forget it."

"Oh, Dios mio, sorry! I know just how you feel! Me? I'm Puerto Rican American. Does anybody guess? No, chica! Just says Mexican! They don't know not for nothing!" she snapped her fingers before walking away. The three girls looked at each other.

"Puerto Rican American? What's that when you get it home?" Belle wondered, still surprised by the amount of ethnic attitude that had spontaneously washed over them.

"I think it's a Yank Chav." Kelly shrugged. Polly laughed and took a sip of her drink.

"Son of a -!" she spat immediately, trying to rub the taste out of her mouth.

"Straight vodka? Really? I know it's not Trinski or anything but it can't be that bad." Kelly sighed, watching as the Geek used her napkin to scrape her tongue clean.

"It's damned Green Apple Vodka! Bloody hell, you know how foul that tastes?" Polly grabbed her glass of water and took a long sip.

"It just isn't your night to drink, Pol." Belle sighed, reaching over and smelling the vodka. It did have a faintly sweet smell that was completely inappropriate for anyone who'd cut their alcohol teeth on Trinski.

"Bollocks. I'm having a word with the bartender right now." Polly glowered and rose, grabbing her martini like a deadly weapon and stalking towards the hectic bar. Kelly's brow danced up in surprise. Her old friend had definitely grown since their days in school.

"That may take a while. I'm sure you were going to invite me to dance?" Belle rose from the booth and extended a hand to Kelly. Jones let a hint of smile tug the corner of her mouth as she slid her hand into Belle's.

"You have turned into quite the mind reader." she stood as well and followed Belle to the dance floor.

Dancing was Annabelle's favorite method of seduction. Maybe because her first time truly dancing had been at St. Trinian's. Maybe because it was after she'd been reborn as her true self, thanks to her schoolmates. Maybe because it had been with Kelly. She'd never danced before that night. She'd always been too awkward, self-conscious; unable to let the music just take over and move her body.

That first party, after the Cheltenham match, she'd watched from the walls and marveled at the absolute ecstasy of their revels . She'd watched Kelly, unable to pull her eyes from the beauty and her sensual abandon. That's what dancing was supposed to look like. You had to be beautiful, sexy, free, coordinated! Annabelle Fritton just didn't think she could do it.

Then she'd become a St. Trinian and she'd seen the look on Kelly's face. She'd seen the Head Girl's eyes smoldering at her, naked desire barely restrained. Under that gaze Belle had felt a new, raw heat well up inside her. It felt like an animal being born inside her skin; something beautiful, wild, _free. _With Jones dancing beside her, Annabelle could completely surrender to the music, to her. Losing control had never felt as good as in Kelly's arms.

Belle smiled at the memory, wrapping her arms around Jones' neck as they found a space in the rhythmic press of bodies. She felt the warmth of a hand against her hip, fingers digging in ever so slightly as they began to move together. The packed danced floor was crowded with swaying, swinging, grinding bodies. The most perfect place for acts of impropriety; encouraged and concealed.

She watched Kelly's face. She loved that the darker beauty had kept her sharp bob but grown out her fringe. Now Belle could actually see every time her brow twitched with skepticism, sarcasm, humor or flirtation. She could see when her forehead creased ever so slightly because she didn't care for a song. She could smirk when the right eyebrow danced up as Belle shifted their dance to a more intimate posture.

The heat generating between them was visible in Kelly's pale complexion, a hint of color spreading in her cheeks. The black eyes never left Annabelle, her gaze growing more intense with each song and beginning to feel like a caress. The younger girl enjoyed her power, raking her fingers up the back of Kelly's neck, feeling her whole body respond with a shiver.

"So you want to play dirty?" Jones smirked and spun Annabelle around, pressing close to her back, replacing visuals with the sound of her breath close against her ear. They never lost the rhythm of the music; even as Kelly's fingers splayed across Annabelle's stomach to feel smooth, flexing muscle through the thin material. _Damn._ Belle groaned, she should've known Kelly could beat her at this game.

"No fair." she whimpered. The only response was a throaty chuckle in her ear, followed by the briefest touch of lips. She leaned back into the body pressed against her, feeling the beat vibrate through them both. Underneath the throbbing bass was the rapid, staccato of her pulse. She could hear and feel every note of Kelly's heartbeat, every rushed breath. Belle's hands wandered, following the warmth of the arms holding her, reaching to tangle in her hair; clenching when Kelly's palm slid down to rest on her thigh just below the hem of her miniskirt.

"Had enough?" Kelly teased, feeling muscle spasm under her touch.

"Yes!" Belle sighed, grateful for the chance to surrender. Kelly laughed and relented, winding them through the throng of dancers to open air. The temperature always dropped about 5 degrees once you got away from the dance floor. It didn't seem to make any difference in the heat of their skin. Kelly started to sit back down at the table but saw Belle's expression and immediately understood the younger girl was not feeling patient. The evening promised to be . . .active.

"Let's just get Polly and we'll be off." Jones nodded and grabbed her things. She scanned the lounge for the familiar redhead.

"Where is Polly?" Belle also looked around, realizing the Geek wasn't within sight.

"Where's the bartender?" Kelly saw the cocktails being shaken by someone different.

"Damn." both girls muttered at the same time and hurried across to search for their missing friend. Kelly knew Polly wasn't the sort to get into fistfights but she didn't know for sure if the Geek had come out unarmed this evening. She usually had some small, lethal invention on loan from MI7 tucked away in her purse. They both investigated the bar counter, looking for signs of blood or gunpowder. Nothing. No hints of explosions or acid either.

"Looking for your friend?" their waitress approached from one side, "They stormed out the back door ages ago, probably still in the alley."

The girls nodded and raced out the exit, images of St. Trinian's style carnage dancing in their heads. Polly almost never got mad. No one could predict what might happen if the Geek ever truly lost her temper. Bursting out the back door Belle's eyes instinctively looked for a body on the ground. Clear.

The bartender was still standing. In fact, she had Polly pinned to the wall. Normally, this would've brought the two girls to her defense except the redhead didn't seem to mind. Belle could even be excused for thinking her friend was _enjoying _the position, what with her tongue halfway down the other woman's throat.

"Kel, what's that drink with the heavy proof rum? The one with the schnapps and vodka and juice?" Belle arched one eyebrow at her girlfriend. There was no doubt Polly knew they were there, the bang of the door had been unmistakable. She was just ignoring them. Vigorously.

"I think that's Screaming Sex With the Bartender." Kelly replied with a matching smile.

"Guess Polly finally managed an order the bartender could provide."

"Or maybe she was feeling like a Red-Headed Slut." Jones couldn't resist adding her own jibe. They both laughed when Polly raised a single-finger salute at them without interrupting her snog.

"Cheers, then. Get home safe." Kelly laughed and looped an arm around Belle's waist. It wouldn't be the first time Polly came into the MI7 office and needed a fresh change of clothes. As they climbed into a taxi Annabelle spoke the question she'd been puzzling over.

"So Polly's bisexual, now?" she turned to Jones without shifting away from the arm around her shoulder.

"Hardly." Kelly snorted.

"She's certainly doing a good impersonation of it after that bloke from Manhattan." Belle's brow furrowed a little as she pondered the confusing reply.

"Polly's not straight, or gay or _anything_ you can label. She's an intellisexual, doesn't care about the equipment, only what's going on upstairs."

"And a bartender that kept screwing up her drinks measured up to those exacting standards?"

Kelly laughed before she explained further. The lounge had been full to capacity. 350 people at the least. The bar was slammed and hectic. How else was a bartender going to get the beautiful brain's attention? Belle leaned into Kelly, smiling as comprehension set in. No wonder the Geek had been intrigued.

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><p>"Auntie! How are you? How are the girls?" Belle bubbled excitedly into the phone. Only Camilla Fritton could get that kind of answer when interrupting a snog. Kelly disentangled herself from Belle and reassembled her clothing, making signs of 'hello,' to the beloved Headmistress.<p>

"Kelly says hi to everyone. Oh, no, not everyone. She says," Belle paused, interpreting the sign language, "That Bianca should go to hell and Zoe still owes her ten quid."

Jones smiled and settled back into the sofa cushions, watching Annabelle talk to her dearest relation. The younger girl gave her a grateful smile, knowing Kelly wouldn't be so patient for just any phone call. Last time they'd been interrupted it had been the Geeks and she'd fired her pistol right by the receiver to put her point across. Resting her hands behind her head Kelly let a her face express her enjoyment as she listened. Camilla had the dulcet, mellow tones of a drill sergeant so there was no difficulty picking up her end of the conversation.

"_School's still standing, girlie. Despite that little surprise package you two sent the Twins last month. LLM-105. Honestly, Belle, Jones is bloody spoiling those girls!"_

"She thought they'd like it."

"_Like it? We still haven't got the tractor-mower out of the oak tree!"_

Jones grinned happily, proud of her protégés. The worst moments of homesickness came over her when she thought of those matching, mischievous grins. Some light banter followed; updates on the tribe wars, Flash's business, Trinski distribution, Shakespearian profits and the Eco's latest green initiative under the guiding hand of Celia. Belle was pleased her aunt had accepted her recommendation for the Trustafarian as next Head Girl. She might be obsessed with saving the world but no one doubted saving St. Trinian's would come first. Besides, the Chavs couldn't respond to her Confucian quotes and the Totties never knew they were being insulted.

"I don't suppose Jess has stopped sending death threats to Middleton?" Belle laughed as the conversation turned to the Chavs. She threw a pillow into Kelly's lap and settled down, letting the older girl run her fingers absently through her hair.

"_No, but she has started letting the Geeks route them so they can't get traced back here anymore. Having the Queen's Guard show up during hockey practice was quite tasteless." _

"I heard about that. Didn't the Totty take three of them hostage for a couple days?"

"_They aren't hostages when they willingly surrender their pants. I sent a note of apology to Elizabeth."_

"Oh, Auntie. No anthrax this time, please?"

"_On my honor. How's life amongst the savages?"_

"The Yanks are nicer than I expected. Apparently getting cursed in an English accent is considered endearing this side."

"_As it should be. They're privileged just to hear the language spoken properly for a change!"_ Camilla gave a short, derisive snort. Belle felt Kelly's chuckle. The manicured fingers had bored with her hair and were now tracing idly down the column of her throat and drawing invisible designs on her breastbone. She fought a responding giggle, pushing the tickling hand away. Kelly grinned and resumed the attack, slipping the other hand under her shirt to harass ribs.

"Kel!" Belle laughed, using her free hand to try to trap both of Kelly's, "S-sorry, Auntie. She's - oi! No fair! Stop!"

She tried to get away, panting too much between laughs to even explain the sudden disruption to her Aunt. She dropped the phone, trying to fend off the renewed assault.

"_Kelly Jones, can't you keep your hands off my niece for two minutes of civil conversation?" _Camilla barked. They both could hear the suppressed laughter in her voice. God only knew what she was imagining from her end of the line. Kelly relented, allowing Belle to recover the phone and her breath, grinning at her victory.

"Sorry about that. She's a bit incorrigible." Annabelle sighed into the phone, brushing messed hair from her face and mouth.

"_Bloody hopeless, that one," _Camilla agreed, _"But then, so are you. Silly, romantic, little sods. I won't keep you, Lolly. But it is October and the girls are starting to ask about your Christmas plans."_

"We didn't have any specific plans?" Belle hazarded, glancing at Kelly and seeing she was equally at a loss for answers. They'd been living in three month segments of time, planning ahead hadn't been part of their strategy. Jones would have time off for the holidays. They'd completely forgotten about that.

"_Well, the Twins are threatening to cry if you don't come back for a visit soon. And if that doesn't work they intend to start taking prisoners."_

"We'll have to talk about it, Auntie. We really hadn't thought that far ahead." Belle refused to commit without consulting Kelly. Just because Camilla could manipulate her like a bad tabloid picture didn't give her the right to push Jones. Kelly had a lot more practice standing up to the Headmistress. The older girl gave her an approving nod, pleased with her evasion.

"_I didn't want to mention this on the phone but there is another matter, Annabelle. Your father."_

"What about him?" Belle felt her jaw tighten as her fingers clenched a bit harder on the phone. Kelly leaned closer, worried. There weren't many things that could make the brunette's face and voice harden like that. Her eyes would go from flashing emotion to solid rock.

"_It's a bit complicated, Belle. I do think you should come home when you get the chance. Otherwise you might never see him again."_

"Is he dying?" the hitch of emotion in Belle's voice surprised her. She hadn't thought she possessed any feelings towards her father anymore. Besides hate and irritation, anyway. Kelly covered Annabelle's hand, listening intently to the words but more focused on the flickers of emotion dancing through her expression.

"_No. I'm just going to bloody kill him. So come home before I do!" _Camilla clarified before ending the call. Not once, in all their conversations, had they ever ended with a normal 'goodbye.' The older Fritton had far too strong a flare for drama for such banalities. Belle looked at the phone, listening to the dead tone. She closed the line and stared at Kelly, letting out a soft chuckle as she played the words back in her mind. Annabelle tossed the phone to the table and allowed Kelly to pull her into her lap, distantly aware of the warm arms wrapping around her waist. She felt safe here, secure enough in Kelly's protection to contemplate the perils of her family.

"I," she hesitated, trying to process the thoughts and feelings spinning around her mind, "I think . . ."

"I know," Kelly interrupted with a rueful smile, "Home for the holidays it is."

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><hr>

_Thanks for all the reviews, keep 'em coming! Ideas? I have a few . . .  
><em>


	4. Holidays pt 1

_I would say I'm sorry for taking so long. Instead, I'll just point out that I get less motivated without reviews. _

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><p><strong>Holidays I<br>**

It was rare for a group of anarchists to ever unite since that defeats their purpose of breaking down any and all systems of order. At St. Trinian's the girls prefer to practice revolution on a highly individual level. On rare occasions, however, they found themselves unified by a common mission. Once again, it was now time to combine forces to resist an outside enemy. No bank or secret society met with such vehement resistance as the parents coming to fetch their daughters for winter break.

The gates had been locked, the doors of the school barricaded and the rest of the grounds protected by roof snipers and remote detonation land mines. The girls that did choose to go home for the holidays (mostly because they had to check in with their probation officers) were escorted through the gates by heavily armed First Years equipped for maximum crowd control. The majority of girls stayed safely ensconced within the walls of their school, occasionally launching rockets and paint bombs into the crowd of confused adults outside the fences.

There would be no awkward, extended family dinners for these girls. No long hours of services in uncomfortable seats and starched knickers. No having to watch little Tommy's Christmas Pageant. Certainly no pretending to like Great-Aunt Mathilda's home made gifts. They couldn't be torn from St. Trinian's by a nuclear blast. Not after the word had spread that Kelly and Belle were coming home.

The crowd of hysterical, confused, demanding and vaguely relieved parents finally dissipated after two days. That was when the gates opened for a familiar black sports car to slide up the drive. Kelly and Belle weren't even halfway up the driveway when they saw movement on the roof and in the windows. The closer they came the more silhouettes spilled out along the turrets or flung open shutters to have an uninterrupted view. You could practically hear the hive mind of St. Trinian's murmuring to itself: _"Is it? It can't be. No, it must! 7-3 it's not. What, are you blind? Doubles on!"_

Then the girls disappeared from the windows. Lines of ladders and ropes were flung off the roof, small bodies growing larger as they dropped to earth amidst the students flooding out the doors. Kelly eased her coupe around the circle drive and barely had time to hit the parking brake before girls were climbing excitedly all over the car. Footprints on the bonnet, perfect.

"I think they missed us." Kelly smirked to Belle, able to hear the dull roar of cheers and shrieks through the heavy glass. The two world travelers climbed from the car and were immediately engulfed. Tania and Tara each grabbed one of them, their latest growth spurts giving them enough force to push the older girls to the ground as they screamed happily.

"You were meant to be here two days ago! What happened? Have to break out of jail?" Bianca stood apart from the chaos, representing the ring of older girls.

"Nah, it took 'em that long to hijack a plane!" another girl at random shouted with a laugh.

"The plane is the easy part. These days it's stealing the fuel that takes forever!" Belle pointed out with a chuckle. She'd managed to sit up and might have gotten to her feet except the Twins chose that strategic moment to switch places, tackling the girls to the ground; again.

"Ooh, laser scopes!" True opportunists to the core, all the younger girls were swarming the car in search of presents and hazardous materials - hopefully both combined in one item.

"Oi! Out of the car!" Kelly shouted, laughing as she tried to wrestle her way out of the enthusiastic hug. She thumbed the remote on her key fob, causing the doors to close and lock; almost taking a Third Year's ankle off.

"Aw, Kel! That's cheating." Tania moaned and sat up atop the older girl.

"Only thing that works at St. Trinian's. Well, besides the plumbing. Up, up, Girls!" Camilla spoke from the doorway, snapping her fingers. The primal First and Second Years all obeyed, backing away to allow the Headmistress through. Both girls were just getting to their feet and dusting themselves off when the lofty form of Fritton Sr. loomed up to them.

"Kelly Jones, have you been treating my niece with the respect, tenderness and admiration a lady deserves?" Camilla looked firmly down her nose at the former Head Girl. It was the same look she'd employed in years past when demanding to know who had put chilies in the jam (Kelly), or skunks in the teachers' lounge (Kelly), or explosives in the toilets (Kelly but Polly helped). The glare didn't work then either

"I doubt it." Kelly's tongue curled in the corner of her lips, punctuating her feral smile as she winked at Annabelle.

"Absolutely not." Belle agreed, grinning and sliding her hand into Jones' back pocket.

"Good. Hate to think the bedroom was getting cold already. Welcome home! Lolly, we have some things to catch up. Miss Jones, do let those girls out the car before they figure out how to hot-wire it." Camilla smiled.

Belle and Kelly obeyed immediately, freeing the younger students and following the Headmistress back into the school. They loved her too much to be scared of her but knew better than to ever dare disobey. Camilla led them to her office, pausing outside the closed door.

"Best lesson from the Stoics: just rip the plaster off, eh, girlie?" she nodded for Belle to walk in the room. She did, and saw her father sitting in a chair by the desk. She immediately backed out again, letting the door fall shut.

"I can't!" she turned to her aunt, already feeling the beginning surges of emotions she didn't want to deal with. She'd expected a few days of peace and safety here in her home before having to deal with _that._ Time to get centered and prepared before dredging up everything Carnaby Fritton meant. Too many memories, too many feelings. She shivered, prompting Kelly to come to her side and hold her securely.

"Ah-ah!" Camilla rebuked, "It has been two years, Annabelle. If you can change within your first short weeks here with us, imagine what we've been able to do with him for the last 6!"

"Six weeks? He's been here?" Annabelle's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He'd never left the gallery for more than two! Could he have changed? She thought of how he'd looked in that split second when she opened the door. He'd been sitting with his elbows on his knees, leaned forward with his brow furrowed as he stared at the floor as though it might provide answers. She'd never in her life seen him look so uncomfortable.

"Once he found out you were coming to visit he was willing to do anything I said. I decided that since the girls' programs did such wonders for helping Geoffrey's recovery, we might be able to do the same with your father."

"I don't think a few AA meetings are going to cover everything." Kelly spat. She tried not to hate Carnaby, she really did. She saw how Belle cried when she thought of her father and knew how much she still loved him; even with all the betrayals. So Kelly wouldn't say a word against him. No matter how badly she wished she could. He was her father.

"Oh no, of course not!" Camilla agreed, "Which is why we devised a whole new program just for him! We're calling it '12 Steps for Shitheads.' I expect it will have quite broad application. The Twins really made it their own with the negative reinforcement."

"Auntie!" Belle was openly aghast, imagining KGB heavy torture techniques reinvented by the 12 year old delinquents. She'd wished her father dead a million times but slowly torture wasn't part of the fantasy.

"Oh, nothing too severe! For major infractions there was a bit of scrotal electroshock, naturally; for the most part it was minor violations. Easy enough to punish with a striptease from Matron."

"What?" Belle demanded, barely heard over Kelly's laughter.

"She has to be there to monitor heart rate and blood pressure anyway. The girls decided to put her to use." Camilla shrugged.

Annabelle was silent as she processed all the information, absently squeezing Kelly's hand that rested on her hip. Her father had been willing to endure six weeks of the Twins and Matron. Six weeks here at St. Trinian's where he was either going to be a villain or a victim. Just so he could see her.

"Alright. Let's see what he has to say." Belle nodded, keeping Kelly close as her aunt opened the door to allow them through. Carnaby's eyes shot up the moment the door opened and he half got out of his chair. Perhaps it was the sight of Belle's arms wrapped so tightly around Jones that made him hesitate. Or the glare in Kelly's eyes. They settled into the small sofa across from him.

"I thought we might talk alone?" the only living Fritton male glanced to his sister.

"It's either Kelly or the Twins. Your choice, Carnaby." the Headmistress shrugged, slipping into the seat behind her desk like a judge opening her session in court.

"No, no," Carnaby immediately recanted, "It's fine this way. No trouble."

"Hello, Daddy." Annabelle tried to say something else, to avoid the term of familiarity but it just spilled out of its own volition. He was daddy; that couldn't be changed at will.

"Annabelle. You look wonderful." Carnaby smiled at her. He looked almost, no; was that? He looked like he might actually be pleased with her. Possibly even proud. What the hell had they done to him? His eyes darted over to Kelly for a moment but shifted away quickly, seeing the hate festering in her gaze.

"Who's minding the gallery?" Belle asked, part of her brain acting as audience to the whole conversation. She was watching herself feel awkward and uncertain, trying desperately to not slip back into her childhood.

"Temporarily closed. Plenty of business waiting when I get back." he shrugged. That wasn't like him at all. Her father was little more than a high-end used car salesman. He squeezed for each and every sale and schmoozed like his life depended on it. He'd sell his own soul to the devil provided he could write the contract.

"Why are you here?" Belle finally blurted out, too confused by the thoughts rebounding in her head. Her father hesitated and pressed his hands together, massaging the knuckles of one fist. She'd never seen him nervous. It was like seeing a skeleton come to life; horrifying and fascinating at the same time.

"I missed you, Annabelle."

"Like hell." Kelly grumbled. She received a sharp glance from Camilla, suggesting that anymore outbursts would get her ejected from the room. There was a moment of anger flashing up in Carnaby's eyes and she could see his mouth opening with a sharp retort. Here would be the true nature of the asshole. All Frittons had a temper, his was just the most offensive. His whole face showed the anger about to spill out of his mouth at this upstart girl that dared take away his daughter.

"Carnaby! Don't make me send for Matron!" Camilla barked, silencing her brother before the snide insult could spill from his lips. His mouth opened and closed a few times as his eyes widened, replaying horrors of old. He clamped his lips into a tight line, staring at an invisible spot in the distance until his jaw unclenched and he could take a deep, calming breath.

"I missed you becoming who you are, Belle," Carnaby explained, voice shaking with the effort of controlling his emotions, "I didn't really know it until the day I saw you here as one of these girls; someone I didn't recognize. I realized I had no idea who you were or how you got there."

"No. You don't." Belle agreed, biting her lower lip because the sincerity in his tone was almost heartbreaking. She'd heard him apologize a million times. _I'm sorry,_ _I'll never see her again. I'm sorry I stayed out so late. Sorry I couldn't get you to school, ruined your homework, scared your mates, slept with your friend. I'll never take that drug again, never hurt you, never lie . . ._The apologies and promises had been endless. But never once had she seen her father so earnest as at this moment. She'd grown up detecting bullshit and had no idea how to cope with _not_ sensing it.

"I want to; I want to know my daughter. You never should have had to chase my girlfriends out of the apartment next morning, or fix hangover cures, or clean up the mess after parties. You didn't get to be a child because you were too busy taking care of me. Then I go and criticize you for being the only stability in my world!" he sighed, worrying a hand through his silver hair.

Annabelle's mouth was hanging open and she couldn't even think how to make it shut. Kelly was staring as well. The first step of any 12-step was admitting you had a problem. Belle's father had pretty much just confessed to being a total wanker. This was the same man who'd called Belle an 'abomination' a short while back, when he'd figured out about her and Kelly. If Camilla's program could really make an asshole change this much, they should package it for parliament!

Annabelle and Kelly exchanged glances, a silent conversation progressing in their eyes. In that gaze want, warning, fear, hope, skepticism and permission all flashed back and forth in a matter of seconds. Kelly just gave a subtle nod, letting the younger girl know it was her decision and she'd back her play, no matter what.

"So, you want to get to know me?" Belle nodded and swallowed her emotions into control, "Let's do. It has been two years. Let's catch up."

Carnaby looked at her in delighted surprise as she settled back into the sofa, arm around Kelly's shoulder. They talked about the gallery, its newest acquisitions and latest goals. Belle told him about her last year at school, the Fritton treasure and escapade with AD1. Carnaby's wide eyes could have been shocked about the Shakespeare revelation; except Kelly realized he was actually watching Belle's hand. Her fingers had begun tracing aimless patterns over Jones' shoulder, neck and breastbone. His eyes were following each small, intimate caress. Kelly restrained her smirk, realizing exactly what Annabelle was doing. _He says he's changed? Let's see how much._

As they talked about various places of travel and adventures in different countries Kelly let her hand slide along Belle's leg. Her fingers roamed casually, provocatively, over the bare skin of her knee and thigh. Carnaby was having trouble not staring at their teasing touches. There was a definite twitch of a scowl in the corner of his mouth when Kelly ran her fingers along the hem of Belle's skirt. _This is going to be fun!_

They both continued the intimate contact and playful caresses as Belle told stories about their time in America. Carnaby was obviously trying to focus on her face and NOT on the hands violating his daughter's body. Particularly now that Kelly had slid her arm around Belle and was stroking her fingers up her ribs; her other hand now occupying the shapely, warmed knee. The spy decided to push a final button and let her fingers graze Belle's breast.

"Excuse me." Fritton was on his feet in an instant and stalking out the door, a storm cloud following his expression. Belle and Kelly looked at each other and giggled.

"Laying it on a bit thick, don't you think, girls?" Camilla sighed and went to follow her brother and talk him down. Therapy might be effective but nothing could truly prepare him for these two girls together.

"No," Kelly grinned at her girlfriend, "This is."

She pressed Annabelle against the arm of the sofa with a passionate kiss, pushing her half off the furniture and pinning the rest of her body. Belle had to concentrate not to laugh at the suddenness of the attack. She smiled into the kiss, burying her hands in Kelly's jet hair and arching for more contact. They both listened intently; pleased to hear the door open and a sudden squeal of shock from Carnaby before it slammed shut again. Kelly broke away, joining Belle in breathless laughter.

"This is going to be the better than when we gave the First Years tranquilizer darts!" Kelly barely managed to speak between laughs. Belle rested against her, gasping for air as her own chuckles calmed. She smiled into Kelly's shoulder. Maybe her father had changed. Maybe not. That could only be judged with time. Meanwhile, they could definitely have fun plucking his brittle little nerve strings.

* * *

><p>Camilla Fritton smirked as she watched her brother get hauled away to another round of 'therapy.' It really had done wonders for his personality. The arrogant, greedy prick who'd once sold her panties as "authentic virgin's," (she'd been 8 at the time) had certainly been humbled. Even this past week, with Kelly and Belle deliberately flirting in his presence, he'd managed not to completely revert to his old male-chauvinist self. There'd been some close calls. Particularly the time they decided to have a snog on the billiards table in the middle of a game. Belle's father had very nearly grabbed the spy to throw her across the room but the presence of other girls stopped him. He simply broke a pool cue and burst a blood vessel in his eye instead. Small injury compared to what Kelly might've done if he'd laid hands on her.<p>

The girls were strategically pushing him to the edge, waiting to see if his explosion would be aimed at Annabelle, Kelly or St. Trinian's itself. Thus far, he'd held his control. Even Camilla was impressed, she wouldn't have expected him to endure such sustained provocation.

"Camilla!" Geoffrey called to her from down the corridor and she turned, smiling at the sight of the former minister striding towards her. He always managed to look wonderfully in control and yet vaguely confused. That was probably only a result of being here at the school. There was no other place that pulled the rug from under his feet as consistently as Fritton's school for female anarchy.

"The one and only, Geoffrey. You're looking dapper this morning." Headmistress Fritton smiled at her long time romance. It was always hard to know what to call him. Boyfriend? Lover? Old Flame? Great Shag? Fabulously Fit Piece of Ass? Rather than worry about labels, Camilla simply called him Geoffrey. It was marvelously multifunction.

"Yes, I'm afraid I've just had some bad news. Can we chat?"

"I rather thought we were. Was this more a banter?" Camilla teased, watching Thwaites' face screw up in a moment of confusion before relaxing into a frustrated chuckle.

"Camilla," he took her arm and guided her towards the quieter entryway, "I just heard from my ex-wife. She's gone off to some seminar in Munich. Advanced Ball Busting for Experts I would expect. The problem is, this leaves Verity with me for the holidays."

"Oh dear." Camilla acknowledged in a tone completely lacking sympathy. She developed a slightly harder set to her jaw and eyes where the Thwaites' offspring was brought into conversation.

"She wouldn't exactly be welcome here. Not easily. I thought perhaps Belle could set the tone? If she and Kelly could strike a truce then perhaps it wouldn't be open warfare waged across the grounds." Thwaites had the sort of desperate hope in his eyes that was generally associated with children determined to cling to the idea of Santa Claus.

Camilla gazed at his sincere expression, marveling. This was how a father was supposed to be: part teacher, part advisor, part hero. When he can no longer smooth away all the bumps and hazards of the coming life, he wants to at least navigate his children through. Long after the kiddies have grown, or rebelled, or washed their hands clean of all family ties; it is still the good father that tries to guide them through the coming dangers. Just because they don't listen never stops him trying to warn. How did someone as concerned and involved as Geoffrey Thwaites produce an utter twat like Verity while her own negligent prick of a brother somehow managed to be rewarded with Annabelle?

"Shame you didn't bring Verity to me as a child. We could've done such wonders with her! But now? She is, as you say, persona non grata at St. Trinian's. She and my niece have been enemies far too long." she shook her head. The athletic Cheltenham graduate could've become something truly great, if only she hadn't graduated Cheltenham.

"They aren't schoolgirls anymore. Surely they've matured enough to settle their differences amicably?" Geoffrey protested.

Annabelle chose that moment to storm down the main staircase, hauling a rope attached to the ankles of a screaming Sixth Former. The girl was yelling in staccato, the cries interrupted with the jarring bump of each step. She clawed desperately for purchase but couldn't get any secure grip as Belle dragged her steadily along.

"Oh, do stop crying! The piranhas only attack if they smell blood!" Belle shouted over her shoulder before pulling the helpless victim outside with a wicked smile. The dumb slag would never again make _any _comments about wanting a piece of Kelly's ass. Not after this.

"I think it might be best if you made other arrangements for your daughter." Miss Fritton finally announced after having watched her niece well away. Geoffrey just nodded, swallowing a lump of horror in his throat. The village inn would be ample for Verity. Certainly safer.


	5. Holidays pt 2

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Told you it helped me work faster!_

**Holidays II**

"So . . ." Carnaby looked at his watch, adjusting the tightness of the strap. There were many things his sister had forced him to do these past weeks. This was possibly the hardest. It bordered on 'cruel and unusual punishment' for everyone involved. It probably wasn't even part of the damned 'therapy!' Probably just Camilla getting a bit of revenge, or settling a bet. The alarming girl opposite him cocked one eyebrow, waiting for him to finish a thought that she knew had never existed. She never just looked at him, she looked straight through him. Her dark eyes declared that she'd already weighed and measured his value as a human being and found him worthless. He sighed and sat back in his chair, admitting defeat.

"How long are we in here?" Kelly demanded, rising to grab the decanter of Scotch from Camilla's shelf. She wished Belle was here but apparently that would 'defeat the purpose of the exercise.' Or so she'd shouted through the Headmistress had stolen her niece away for some conversational skirmishes in the training room. Bloody premeditated, that.

"Until they're done, I presume." Carnaby shrugged. They'd both heard the click of the lock as Camilla and Belle left the room.

"She could've warned me!" Jones growled, taking a gulp of the scotch. She enjoyed the burning in her throat but it needed ice. They'd all been having a rather strained tea (what with Belle all but in Kelly's lap) and then the Fritton women had announced they felt like a bit of sparring. Camilla had laughingly suggested Kelly and Carnaby get better acquainted. Then she proceeded to lock them in. Jones had already checked the windows - not only were they locked, there was barbed wire and shards of glass on the ground on the other side. If that weren't enough, a squad of First Years were outside as enforcement. Breaking out wasn't really an option.

"Warning? Fritton women don't warn. They subscribe very seriously to a 'need to know' philosophy of information." Carnaby followed Kelly's example and grabbed a drink. This might be easier through an alcohol haze. He'd been making such progress with Annabelle! Why did they have to do this now? He slammed the bottle down after pouring three fingers of amber relief. He wasn't ready for this confrontation! What if he said the wrong thing, ticked off this volatile girl and destroyed any growth he'd managed? There was no doubt his daughter put highest priority on this Jones girl. If he wasn't careful, he might never get to see Annabelle again.

"What are they like? Frittons, I mean. All stubborn and difficult as this lot?" Kelly nodded to the door through which Camilla and Belle had escaped.

"They're certainly outstanding examples of the breed. Each generation seems to top the last. Above and beyond the genetics, those two. Frittons? They're hard headed, impulsive and conniving. But I'm sure you've seen all that in my daughter already." he chuckled; the first time he'd ever been able to acknowledge their relationship without a growl or frown.

"I'd have said 'shrewd,'" Kelly sat back down, putting her feet up on the opposite sofa, "You know she got some wanker in LA to cover our bar tab by asking for his autograph? She took him for $105! Stealing his wallet was the easy part."

"Annabelle used to love stealing things. She'd always return them later but there was such a glint of pride in her eyes because she'd managed to get away with something." Carnaby smiled, sitting down across from her; she could tell he wasn't actually looking at her. His eyes were gazing inward at memories. Kelly leaned forward, suddenly intrigued.

"What was she like as a child?" Jones-the-cynic expected a vague answer somewhere along the lines of 'smaller.' Jones-the-observant knew that wasn't what she'd hear. Carnaby was already lost in the mazes of time, a nostalgic smile curling his lips.

"She used to come with me to the gallery when her mother had appointments. If I didn't hear a customer come in she'd attend to them herself, guiding them around the artwork and repeating - word for word, mind you - the exact sales pitch I had for each. I could see from my office, a tiny 5 year old showing some rich toffs the goods. She had a lisp, did you know? It was adorable to hear her say 'surrealism.' I think more customers bought from her than me those days." he laughed, mind in another time completely.

Kelly watched his face as he traveled the long forgotten paths of the past. How often did he dare let himself remember? Annabelle's mother had died when she was 6 and though Belle didn't talk much about it, Kelly could see it was the calamity that had changed everything and everyone. Neither Carnbay nor his daughter had been the same after. He'd checked out of reality completely, obsessed with indulgence, luxury and pleasure. Annabelle simply had to grow up so there'd be at least one adult in the house. This idea of Belle as a child, before any of the drama, was a new and fascinating thought for Kelly. She wanted to see this precocious past.

"Tell me more." Kelly leaned forward and poured a few more fingers of scotch into Carnaby's glass.

He talked for the better part of an hour, recounting Annabelle's charms, humors and tricks as a child. He'd been present in those days; still cared about his daughter and saw himself in her. He smiled and laughed in places, Kelly joining him as he painted a sincere portrait of the girl they both loved. She joined in at times, relating a story from recent years much like what Carnaby had recalled. The youngest Fritton hadn't really changed, just got taller and smarter.

By the time Camilla and Belle returned, the room's occupants were both laughing and the scotch was empty. They'd expected to find dead silence (or a dead body). The Fritton women exchanged doubtful glances. This might not have been their finest strategy. Carnaby and Kelly would never like each other as people but they had certainly found their common ground: Annabelle. _Perfect._

* * *

><p>Kelly smiled at her poker hand; straight, king high. Very promising. Card games were a constant feature in the Sixth Form lounge and playing against Bianca and Zoe was good practice. Neither of them could bluff worth a damn but their tells always vanished when they started getting angry with each other. A solid fight between the two cost Kelly several hands until the girls calmed down and their usual nuances reemerged.<p>

Jones adjusted her arm around Belle, who'd climbed into her lap for attention about three hands back. She and Celia had been chatting through some telly programs but eventually the Head Girl was called away to manage another random disturbance. Belle then slid onto Kelly's knees and reclined against her, lazily watching the progress of the game with a contented smile. From time to time she leaned to Kelly's ear to whisper observations that made Jones' dark red mouth curl in a smile. They exchanged murmured inside jokes, occasionally bursting into laughter - much to the annoyance of the other players that couldn't multitask so well. The Banned were on the far side of the room, working through some acoustic guitar ballads that created a lovely, sedate atmosphere. There was a bubble of tranquility separating them from the school's usual chaos.

"See your £5, raise the same." Bianca tossed her coins in. They used to have their own chips and cashier; then someone figured out how to counterfeit the tokens so they went back to hard currency.

"Oh, what bollocks. You only raise when you don't want to fold and you know you have sod-all." Zoe rolled her eyes.

"Is it? Is 'at what I do? Well then call the bleedin' bet, corpse-kisser! Then you can see!" Bianca turned, her gold hoops swinging violently in the air as her head bobbed. Tranquil bubble: burst.

"Why should I pay to prove you're full of shite? You do it for free all the time, Goldiloops." the Emo didn't even bother to look at her nemesis, one of her favorite buttons to push on the temperamental Chav.

"Me? I'm the one full of shite? I ain't the one parading as Queen of the Damned Undead what got creeped out in a graveyard!" for every button Zoe knew, Bianca knew an equal.

"I got cold!" Zoe snarled, face snapping around to glare.

"You got the shivers! You were near to trembling, blood-sucking hypocrite."

"You'd know all about hypocrisy then, wouldn't you? Your Chavs know about all that AFI and Flyleaf you have buried in your iPod?"

"We're Rude Girls! When did you get hold of my iPod?" Bianca shot to her feet, already yanking her earrings out. Zoe was on her feet just as quick, fast reflexes were everything in a fight with a Chav. Well, that and knowing how to stitch a slice from a box cutter.

Kelly felt Belle's chuckle and sigh. These two hadn't stopped going at it for near 4 years. They'd been enemies from the day Zoe arrived at St. Trinian's and spotted Bianca's laundry drying on a line. It all started because Zoe used her emergency can of black paint on the brightly colored leggings and sequined track suit. There was a particular black (formerly hot pink) thong that still came up in arguments. Zoe had a strong instinctive reaction to offensive colors. Everything about Bianca turned out to be offensive.

"Chav! Chav! Chav!" Zoe shouted, wrestling out of a headlock and throwing Bianca over the couch.

"Let's put some color on you, eh, caspar? How's about blood red?" Bianca pulled off her track suit jacket and chucked it aside.

"Do all you twats have you strip for a fight? Or is it just you putting on a show?" Zoe teased, making Bianca's angrily flushed face even redder.

"That's it. You're going down!" the Chav grabbed Zoe by her gothic black collar.

"You wish." Zoe hissed in the split second before she was hauled over the couch. Kelly arched her brow at Annabelle. This was something that had definitely changed since last year. They'd both been noticing during this holiday that the constantly hostile energy between the two enemies had become a bit . . .suggestive. There was a definite undercurrent becoming more pronounced; a charge in the moments before a fight, when the two were face to face and about to explode. Then it vanished in the violence.

"Twenty quid on Zoe!" Beth called out, full of faith in her leader.

"No ways! Bianca's gonna whip her death-loving arse!" Jess shot right back, taking the bet. The two girls had rolled off the couch and were grappling on the floor, knocking the coffee table out of their way. The rest of the girls in the room immediately cleared as much furniture as possible to give them a wide arena. Harriet and Daisy just sighed and pulled all their instruments out of the path of damage.

"Is this one my turn or yours?" Kelly inquired, chuckling as Zoe broke away from Bianca's grip but sacrificed her jacket in the process. The Chav might be a bit more exhibitionist about taking her clothes off but her Emo rival seemed just as eager to shed excess material. Did they even have a clue about the subliminal signals they were broadcasting?

"Your turn, I did the scrap yesterday in the dining room." Belle reminded her. Celia had asked the former Head Girls to help keep everyone (particularly these two deviants) in line when she wasn't around. There are only three ways of telling time at St. Trinian's: What Crisis Just Happened, What Crisis is About to Happen and Where are the Twins? So Belle and Kelly were more than willing to help the Trustafarian maintain a semblance of order.

"Yes, but I broke them up this morning in the dorms." Kelly pointed out. That was why she remembered about the pink thong; it had come up in the argument just a few hours ago when the girls were engaging in their usual wardrobe ridicule.

"Fair enough. My go." Belle sighed and turned her attention back to the fight, Bianca in the process of putting a scissor hold on Zoe. _Yeah, not suggestive at all. _The scuffle rolled across the floor a few more times before Zoe pinned Bianca to the ground, successfully having drawn first blood from the Chav's lip. The older girls never interfered until the bets were settled; St. Trinian principle and all.

"You know, I'm starting to think you two fight everyday just to get your hands on each other." Belle spoke up in a loud but casual tone. This made Zoe halt in the process of ripping out one of Bianca's braids.

"What?" the Emo stared at her, caught between confusion and disgust.

"You mad? Around her throat, yeah!" Bianca agreed from the floor, trying to throw her attacker off.

"Yes, of course. Silly me," Belle pulled her iPhone and snapped a quick picture, turning it for them to see, "You might try a bit harder to convince me."

The picture captured Zoe straddling Bianca's hips, completely pinning the arching body beneath her; both flushed and panting for air.

"That's entrapment!" the Emo glared, getting to her feet rapidly despite the denial.

"Christ, Belle! Just cause you two pervs can't keep off each other . . ." Bianca grumbled, climbing from the floor. It was hard to be sure if she resented the insinuation or the interruption. The enemies avoided eye contact with each other as they went to opposite sides of the room to commiserate with their supporters. Kelly gave Belle a slight nod of admiration. Breaking up a brawl without even rising from her lap; that was impressive.

Celia - who had a miraculous sense of timing for avoiding Zoe/Bianca fights - came back into the lounge, a slightly worried line knitting her brow. She was clutching a handset to her ear and listening to the lookout's report.

"Annabelle, hatchling is in the perimeter. Do we engage?" the Head Girl was obviously hoping the answer would be yes. Save the planet, yes; save the people . . .not so much. Besides, Celia loved a good game of darts. Belle felt Kelly stiffen behind her, ready for a fight. She got to her feet and went to the window, seeing the black Mercedes slowly rolling up the distant driveway. There was a definite hesitance to the car creeping towards them. Jones stood behind her, every muscle clenched. Perhaps the only reason Belle had been able to let go of so much hate was because Kelly had taken it all on.

"No, we do not," Belle sighed, giving Kelly a pleading look, "We knew she was coming. Thwaites has been such a help. We can do this much for Auntie."

There was a groan from the entire room. Defending their own was what they did best; well, besides breaking laws. Usually they managed to do both at once. A few protests started from different corners but Kelly's glare silenced them all. Verity was Belle's call, end of story. The car halted outside the main entrance and Thwaites Jr. climbed out. Annabelle had expected a hint of her old instincts to kick in: a moment of panic or the urge to flee. It never came. Gazing down at her arch nemesis, who'd spent years torturing, mocking, tricking and attacking her, Belle felt absolutely nothing. She smiled, pleased to discover she had developed such a reservoir of inner peace.

The other car door opened as well and a second blond head emerged. Now Belle did feel a flash of panic. She gripped Kelly's wrist, holding the spy firmly in place as Margaret appeared beside Verity. Annabelle groaned softly to herself. It was only logical. If she were going for a visit to Cheltenham, Kelly would die before letting her go alone. It just made sense Maggie would feel the same. She just had no clue that her presence reduced their life expectancy by half. It wouldn't be Annabelle that needed controlling.

"Stupid slapper dares come here?" Kelly glared through the glass, her eyes already sparking with thoughts of evil. She turned to give orders to Celia but Belle got in front of her immediately, halting her motion.

"Kel! We can't just bomb them from the roof!"

"I planned something a bit more local. Harriet, get Lucy on the remote detonators." Kelly started to move around Belle but the younger girl knew how to stay directly in her path.

"No! They're here by my aunt's permission so that Geoffrey can see his daughter. Not pieces of her." Annabelle forced the flashing black eyes to focus on her, "We promised Auntie."

Jones was silent a moment, jaw muscles twitching furiously. She stared out the window at the two Cheltenham grads making their way up the steps. Just the sight of them made her furious. She wanted to burn the whole building down and wouldn't even care she was still trapped inside, so long as they were fried to a crisp. The images of explosions and collapsing ceilings and pit traps faded as she stared into Belle's earnest face.

"We promised the Headmistress that no harm would come to Verity. No guarantees on her bint girlfriend." Kelly shook her head but gave in with a small sigh. She wouldn't declare war just yet. From here, though, it wouldn't take much.


	6. Holidays pt 3

_This was going to be up as part of the last chapter but at the last minute I thought of another scene I wanted to add._

**Holidays III  
><strong>

To say Verity's daily visits were tense would be an understatement similar to calling WWII a bit of a scuffle. It was a testimony to Thwaites Jr.'s affection for her father that she continued to brave such hostile grounds to see him. Students' eyes glared at her from every shadow and corner. They could just as easily watch her through the cameras (which they did) but the St. Trinian's girls wanted to convey their message with a more personal touch. Verity and Maggie could never doubt that they were one slip away from a fast and fiery death or a slow, painful life.

Perhaps it was Belle's own attempt to renew communication with her father making her a tad sympathetic. She promised her Aunt she'd do her best to keep the students from ruining Verity and Geoffrey's relationship. Thus far, everyone had grudgingly complied; no tricks, traps or attacks. Belle did, however, encourage them to use their resources for other measures.

The Geeks were quick to plant a listening device in Verity's car during her very first visit, allowing them to listen to the Cheltenham girls' conversation on each return trip. A roof-mounted camera showed them the departing vehicle and you could always tell Verity was getting mad because the car would slow down. The fights were so entertaining that most of the Sixth Form raced to the Geek area the moment they saw the Mercedes pull away. The Chavs even brought popcorn.

Today's show was proving especially good.

"_You were staring at her lips for ten solid minutes." _Verity's anger came through sharp and clear.

"_We were talking about lipstick." _Maggie's confused idiocy was even clearer.

"More like where to stick her lips!" Bianca laughed, bringing echoes from the other girls around the speaker and screen.

Even Kelly laughed; she unwound brilliantly as soon as the girls left for the day, the tension pouring out of her immediately. The fact that someone else was enamored of Belle's lips didn't bother her in the slightest. Annabelle had a bloody _fabulous_ mouth. At the moment, her lips were alternatively smiling, laughing or happily leaving light touches along Kelly's cheek and ear. _Who wouldn't want this? _Kelly grinned, leaning into the caresses even as they both listened intently.

"_You tried to touch her mouth!" _the car had come to a halt, brake lights glowing dull, angry red. They were still nearly 15 yards from the gate. Annabelle smirked, remembering how quickly Kelly had pulled her back a step when Maggie's fingers reached toward her face. Belle would've dodged the touch anyway but Jones' reflexes were shockingly fast during those encounters. She didn't mind other people lusting after Belle but she drew the line at touching.

"_She had such a great color on." _there was a dreamy tone in her voice that all of them could recognize from having lived with Posh Totty.

"And she just wanted to wear it off." the observation came from Celia. Being Head Girl had made her a bit more grounded in reality. The approving murmurs and chuckles were quickly silenced as the conversation continued.

"_You're obsessed with her lips. Admit it. You probably imagine her when you're kissing me!"_

"Oi! Don't ask questions when you won't like the answer! Nutter." another Chav shouted at the radio. Who knew a one-way transmission could be so interactive?

"_Don't be ridiculous. I couldn't!" _Maggie's objection sounded incredibly sincere.

"How could she? You _seen_ Thwaites' lips?" Daisy used her fingers to squish her lips flat, mimicking their enemy's thin mouth.

"_But,"_ Maggie continued after a thoughtful pause, _"Sometimes when we're in bed. . ."_

"_What?"_

"_Could we invite her for a threesome?" _

"Hells, Belle! She wants to get you for a sandwich! Feeling hungry?" Bianca was on the floor roaring with the rest of the Chavs. Even the Emos were laughing. Annabelle just shook her head and turned her face into Kelly's shoulder, hiding her blush. Jones, still chuckling herself, took the handset off Lucy's desk.

"Girls, speed them on their way, will you?" she ordered, knowing that if they didn't interfere now the two Cheltenham snots might end up stuck in the road the whole night. An explosion on the other side of the field should set them moving again. Needed to keep the way clear for Flash, after all.

"_Right, Kel." _Tania and Tara replied. Two seconds later a massive explosion engulfed the old guardhouse about 3 yards from Verity's car. The girls in the Mercedes screamed, completely forgetting the fight as they tore out of the gate at top speed.

"What the hell was that?" Kelly demanded from the handset.

"_Sorry, Belle. It's Ecos on artillery." _Tania apologized.

"_They prefer catapults to proper grenade launchers." _Tara explained.

"_Their aim is shite." _both Twins concluded. Kelly glanced over at Celia, who replied with no more than a shrug. The burning guardhouse - which had become a store room for non-viable (lethal) Trinski - exploded.

Celia quickly gave commands to the fire brigade to contain the blaze. The orders mostly involved a stern warning about not turning the fire hose on the school again, no matter _who_ was making faces in the windows. Last time they wiped out all the glass on the west side first floor and nearly drowned the English class. Seeing a sopping wet, infuriated Dickinson whip the Third Year Fire Marshall with her own soaked skirt was still clearly emblazoned on everyone's memory. Apparently the English teacher got a bit testy when her books were damaged.

"Why are Ecos on artillery, Celia? That's been First Years' since long before us." Kelly drew the Head Girl to one side. The smallest students were the most deadly, everyone knew that.

"Yes, but the First Form still swear loyalty to the Twins. We've found it best to not give them access to an army this time of the month." Celia shook her head.

"'Time of the month?' Celia, they're only -," Kelly hesitated, realizing that she couldn't insist on them being ten forever. But . . .already?

"They're twelve, Kel," the Trustafarian corrected her friend, "Hell, they have breasts already! Not that you can tell under all the camouflage and gear. The Totties could do them up to pass for 18 year olds with a height impairment."

"They wouldn't dare!" Kelly's face flashed with horror at the thought.

"Course not, the Twins would stab anyone that came near with a comb. They haven't changed _that_ much. They just get a bit more testy around this time so we decided on some precautions." the Head Girl shuddered a bit as she recalled the last time Tania and Tara had been in charge of security while PMSing. The normal hockey practice had to be called off on account of missiles. Then there had been the unfortunate grocery delivery driver that hadn't brought enough chocolate . . .She was pretty sure there were still pieces of his pants in the hedges.

All the tribe leaders had come to an agreement to rotate the defensive duties for the necessary time. They actually wanted to completely disarm TnT but it simply wasn't possible. No one could hide weaponry like those two. Everyone just knew to stay out of their territory on these days or face a territorial tazer attack.

"Bugger." Kelly sighed, knowing an integral part of St. Trinian's life was changing and she couldn't be here to watch. In the next few years the Twins were going to discover a weapon deadlier than anything they'd ever handled: sex. Kelly so wanted to be the one to teach them its uses. She could just imagine them wrapping Flash Harry even tighter around their powder-stained fingers. Nothing for it, she and Belle would definitely have to visit more.

A loud, laughing shriek pulled Kelly from her thoughts. Zoe was trying to wrestle Belle's phone away.

"I told you to delete that!" the Emo grabbed at the taller girl's securely clenched fingers.

"But I haven't shown everyone yet. Celia! Want to see what you missed the other day?" Annabelle laughed again and broke away.

"Lay off that, Belle! It ain't funny!" Bianca joined in now, making a lunge for Belle and missing completely. Fritton had taken to photographing every one of the Chav's fights with Zoe, building a massive digital case for her theory that the two were secretly shagging. Or wishing they could.

Celia smiled as the mischievous brunette revealed her latest trophy. Yesterday at lunch an argument had broken out because Bianca used up the last of the ketchup. Instead of being reasonable and getting more (like a sane person) the Chav had scooped up a spoon of the sauce on her plate and flung it on Zoe. The immediate, retaliatory pitcher of water drenched Bianca from head to waist. The normal physical assault ensued, clearing the table swiftly and shattering glasses and plates.

Belle's sense of timing was always perfect. The photo she caught had Bianca and Zoe tangled on the table; both soaked now, the thin material of their uniform shirts revealing far more than they would like.

"I was wet!" Bianca protested, seeing Celia's smirk.

"It was cold!" Zoe echoed.

"You were both looking warm enough. Or were you flushed for some other reason?" Kelly couldn't resist joining in with a lazy smile. It was just too tempting to push this button. Even if Belle's theory wasn't true, it was entertaining as hell.

"Go hang!" Bianca yelled, her earrings swaying with her temper.

"She's not like that." Jess came to her leader's defense.

"Right, straight as a razor and sharper too!" the Chav snapped her gum.

"Like I'm not?" Zoe growled.

"I don't speak for nobody. Imagine you wouldn't care much if the corpse was boy or girl long as it was good and cold." Bianca shrugged, happy to have the conversation off herself.

"And you'd shag a shoe if it were Burberry! I'm no more queer than you!" Zoe spat. A telling confession in its own way, actually. This had the look of escalating into another fight. A wicked idea began to form in Belle's mind. Anger and desire had awfully similar symptoms. She quickly whispered to Kelly, who responded with a devilish smile.

Belle approached the two tribe leaders, currently screaming at each other about how straight they were. She grabbed Zoe and forced the shorter girl to spin and face her.

"You've _never_ thought about it?" Belle purred as she leaned in close, "Never even wondered what it might be like?"

"No!" Zoe protested and tried to break away but without conviction. She couldn't see anything other than the hazel eyes boring into her, seeing right through her. Annabelle shifted her hands up to cup the Emo's cheeks. She could see Zoe was lying, the anger a useless mask over the nervous flicker of truth she'd seen in the younger girl's eyes. After all, it was Zoe that saw one of Kelly's "visits" last year. Apparently she'd had quite a few restless nights for weeks after.

"Never wanted to try something different? Something forbidden?" Belle kept her tone low and seductive, eyes darting to Bianca's slack jawed stare, "Just to see if it was worth it?"

Bianca was completely focused on the scene before her, not expecting the sudden hands that grabbed her and spun her around, slamming her back into Zoe's. The Chav's startled cry was cut short when Kelly's face hovered before her, one hand holding the back of her head while another pinned her chest.

"Can't you picture it? Standing so close you can't tell if the heartbeat you're hearing is yours or hers? Mouths just a breath apart in that moment of hesitation; knowing everything is about to change. Wondering if you could do it; if you should?" Kelly husked, her words washing over both girls. The tribe leaders' hearts were pounding with adrenaline from their fight and now fear had them beating in synchrony. It had to be fear; right?

"But it's too late to fight. You can already smell skin and taste heat." Belle was so close to Zoe that if she licked her lips she'd taste the other girl's gloss. The words, touches and tones were hypnotizing the captive girls. The effect was felt by everyone in the room, all watching in stunned silence. Every girl's mind was racing. _Would they? They wouldn't. Shit, they would, wouldn't they? Are they going to?_

"Do you know how many nerve endings are in your lips?" Belle dragged her thumb over Zoe's lower lip, "More than any other part of your body. Even the places you'd think were most sensitive. That's why you hold your breath for that first touch."

"Then there's a sigh of relief; it's so much better than what you'd ever imagined. You've never felt anything so luxurious. So decadent." Kelly purred, watching Bianca's stare dart back and forth between her eyes and her lips. She could feel the Chav's breath growing more shallow through parted lips.

"You can't stop. Can't break away. Not even to talk; you just whisper into lips, words passing mouth to mouth."

"Every passing moment grows more heated, more overwhelming. You hold each other closer because it feels at any moment your legs will give out beneath you."

"You can stay like that for minutes, hours . . .days." Belle could feel Zoe's heartbeat pounding into her, nostrils flaring like she could _smell_ the pheromones of the moment.

"You don't even need to shag. You want to spend the rest of your life in that kiss." Kelly saw Bianca close her eyes. The two girls were right where Belle wanted them. At this moment, if she leaned in and kissed Zoe, the Emo wouldn't even fight back. The surrounding students were holding their breath, leaning forward slightly in expectation. Another second and the 'straight' girls might make the first move!

"Or," Belle's voice returned to normal as she and Kelly both stepped back, "Maybe we're wrong. Maybe you've genuinely never, ever had that thought cross your mind."

"Until now." Jones winked. She took Belle's hand and they left the dorm, throwing final, evil smiles back at their prey.

The victims were still standing back to back, sagging a bit against one another as they slowly woke from the spell. Blinking at the audience they shook out of it and darted away from each other. Everyone might've seen their hostile glares as a sign they'd returned to normal. Only Celia noticed that both girls were glaring right at the others' mouth.

* * *

><p>Belle could almost feel sorry for Verity; listening to them fight (daily) it became obvious that Maggie was worse than all the Posh Totties of history combined. If there were even two brain cells in that blond head they just bounced around with no hope of connecting. Worse was the fact that she made Chelsea look chaste. Nevertheless, Verity chose her; it was her own damn fault.<p>

Kelly had no such fluctuations in her hate. When they had to be together the dark spy's face told hundreds of tales of temper restrained, curses suppressed and violence prevented. Annabelle did her best to avoid her old schoolmates but Maggie had some sort of bloodhound's sense for finding her no matter where she and Kelly hid. She'd even tracked them to the roof! Only half the time was Verity with her but it didn't change anything; with or without her girlfriend she was still a turbo-skank extraordinaire.

The slag never remembered Kelly's name or the fact that she was supposed to keep her hands _off_ Annabelle Fritton. She might do well for the first few minutes of conversation (after the awkwardly long hug that required Verity to peel her girlfriend off a distressed Belle). Inevitably, Maggie would forget the 'no touching' rule and resume letting her hands wander far too freely. Belle was always moving away and shifting; dislodging the hands molesting her shoulder, waist, arm, hair or clothing. Fortunately, Verity had a shorter fuse than Kelly and would be the first to snap, dragging Maggie away in a jealous fury.

Belle would never admit it aloud but a tiny piece of her was enjoying the game. She loved how jealousy brought out Kelly's protective streak. Not to mention how much it intensified their private diversions. Jones was painstakingly thorough in removing any and every trace of Maggie's touch from Belle's mind and body, leaving behind only her own mark. Thank God the teachers were all home for the holidays, seeing as the spare room where the girls were staying was _not_ soundproofed. Two nights ago they accidentally woke Matron.

They both knew Margaret wasn't any kind of threat but that didn't stop Jones' anger. The infamous St. Trinian didn't mind that others lusted after Annabelle (she couldn't blame them) but she drew the line at all this bloody touching. She did not like anyone touching Belle, least of all this slutty cow that was constantly trying to eye-shag the younger girl! Barred from her usual methods of violence, verbal abuse and terror, Kelly had to resort to more subtle techniques.

Hence this latest position: standing behind Belle with both arms draped around her. She couldn't be more clearly possessive unless she just slung the brunette over her shoulder caveman style. Which was becoming a very real possibility given how many times Maggie had already brushed Belle's hands (both of which were hanging onto Kelly's wrists to prevent her lashing out).

"You should've seen it, Annabelle, just a gorgeous shade of red! It would go wonderfully with your hair!" Maggie was enthusing about some dress in town, reaching out and stroking Belle's hair to punctuate her comment. Kelly was glaring at Maggie, Verity was glaring at Belle, Annabelle was hopelessly trying to avoid Maggie's eyes.

"Nice, Maggie. Look, we've got to go, right? Kelly and I have some plans." Annabelle tried, for the fifth time, to interrupt and end the conversation. Escape: attempted and failed. Maggie grabbed hold of Belle's shirt to hold her in place, a gesture that made all three girls tense.

"Oh, not yet!" Maggie pouted, fingering the material in her hands, "It's been so long since school. I miss our times together. I so wish I could see more of you!"

"I just bet you do." Kelly rolled her eyes.

"That isn't what she meant!" Verity protested, choosing to ignore overtly sensual tone of Maggie's words. Pathological denial? Present.

"Really? Let's see. Margaret, you ever want to see Belle naked?" Jones didn't usually talk much in these encounters; hard to force words through a clenched jaw.

"Why should I?" Maggie laughed, "I already have!"

"What?" Kelly started forward, barely held in place by Belle's hands. Verity had already stepped protectively in front of her girlfriend. Kelly had proven she could kick Thwaites' arse six ways from Sunday but she'd promised both Annabelle and the Headmistress that she wouldn't hurt Verity, no matter the provocation.

"We were in school together 5 years. What, do you have private showers here?" from whore to dumb blond in 5 seconds flat. Jones eased off her 'instant kill' alert, calming just a bit.

"See? Not everyone's a randy perve like you. How'd you ever get frigid Fritton in the sack? Probably had to get her pissed. Hell, you being Trinian, you probably slipped her a rufie!" Verity laughed, bringing Kelly back into attack mode.

The comment hit a nerve, just not where it had been expected. Belle tackled Verity to the ground, laying in series of heavy punches before the jock even knew what hit her. Kelly watched in delight; the spectacle of a Fritton infuriated was not to be missed. Verity might've been an athletic bully in her day but all the sparring with her aunt and Kelly had turned Belle into a far more dangerous fighter. She came up on top with ease, no more than a scratch over her temple while Verity was bleeding from her lip and nose, one eye swollen shut. It would seem implying that her girlfriend was a date rapist was one of Belle's triggers. Who ever would have thought?

"Of course," Maggie was still stuck on her last train of thought, "Nothing quite topped seeing that birthmark. Best day of the Fifth Form."

Kelly, immediately knowing exactly what birthmark was meant (she did know every inch of Belle's body, after all) totally snapped. There was no way she'd see that in a shower. Her right hook sent Maggie to the ground, rolling. When the dazed girl got to her feet and bolted Kelly had to face a decision.

"Belle, you right?" she asked, hesitating a moment.

"As rain!" Annabelle paused pummeling Verity long enough to give Jones a brilliant smile.

"Smashing." Kelly grinned and took off after her victim. If they were going to break their promise, they were going to make it shatter to tiny pieces.

* * *

><p>Geoffrey sat on the backyard patio, gazing out on the grounds with the aspect of a man who's just found out he's dying but not soon enough to get out of jail time. He barely noticed the approaching footsteps until a body dropped into the chair next to him. He didn't care for the company of the other adults at St. Trinian's; besides Camilla, of course. The language teacher was too flirty, the English one too earnest. The coach never stopped talking war stories and Matron just never stopped talking. The art instructor seldom spoke, existing in a permanent state of self-medication and the bursar . . .well, his nerves didn't allow much sustained conversation.<p>

So, Thwaites could be forgiven for only affording the visitor a casual glance. On seeing it was Carnaby Fritton he smiled and nodded greeting. He'd been getting to know Camilla's older brother a bit more during his stay and found that the siblings shared the same roguish charm and dry wit. If Carnaby was more of self-absorbed ass, 'Milla's 12-step had mostly corrected him.

"Eight weeks and I can't even sleep without having nightmares about schoolgirls. How have you managed this place every weekend for the last 2 years?" Carnaby demanded, taking a long swig from a whiskey sour.

"Weekends are a bit calmer, girls can go into town and so on. Mostly, I just hide." Geoffrey admitted, watching the ice clink in Fritton's glance.

"Oh, sorry," Carnaby dumped the drink out and put the empty glass under his chair, "Matron Therapy?"

"The color of that damned bra!" Thwaites moaned with a shudder, trying to banish the horror from his memory. Carnaby's frame twitched with a sympathetic tremor. Electroshock was one thing but those memories . . .

"How are you and my sister, then? Going along swimmingly?" Carnaby forced his mind onto a different subject. Since he and the former minister were still getting acquainted it seemed the most neutral topic.

"Yes, lovely. Well. Good as can be expected I suppose. I don't think she's too delighted with me at the moment." he gazed across out the burnt out husk of the guardhouse that had been a casualty during Verity's visit the previous afternoon. Carnaby followed his glance.

"Right. Not on good terms, our daughters. Shame about that. They could've been the ones sitting here moaning about us!" Fritton chuckled, bringing a similar laugh from Thwaites at the very thought. Amazingly enough, the girl had come back today to see her father. Since Thwaites was already outside, Carnaby assumed the visit had not gone well.

"Least yours is happy for the most part," Geoffrey sighed, looking back out over the horizon, "I think Verity has been miserable since the day her mother and I split up."

"Yes. Happy," Carnaby paused, pondering his daughter and how easily the dark haired girl made her smile, "How do you deal with this whole 'girlfriend' thing? I'm willing to flirt with a Doberman if it gets me the lead on a good bargain but I never expected my daughter to be so sincerely unorthodox. Is it just one more way to rebel? Anarchy in the bedroom seems a bit extreme."

Geoffrey nodded and pondered for a moment. He hadn't really thought about 'dealing with' anything. He'd just been grateful Verity was still speaking to him. What with him photographed nude in the bedroom of her archrivals' Headmistress, he rather expected her to pummel _him_ with her hockey stick.

"It's not exactly what I pictured for her, of course. I never dangled her on my knee and looked at her beautiful blue eyes and thought 'this girl will make a fine lesbian one day!' Then again, I used to frisk all the boys that played with her from the age of 4," he smiled at Carnaby's concurring laugh, "I wasn't thinking of _anyone_ ever touching her so I didn't think much about it being a boy or a girl."

"True. I suppose I rather expected her to just turn out like her mother. Best she didn't, what? She's already become a _far_ better judge of character." Carnaby smiled ruefully. There was no doubt that if she'd ever brought home a boy anything like himself, particularly as a teenager, she'd have been under lock and key the rest of her life. He'd gone through 3 wives before Belle's mother. Ironic that the only woman he felt comfortable having a family with had to be the one that left him. The universe was laughing off its arse.

"Amen. Maybe our girls just spent their lives looking at us and decided they'd like something a bit more stable in their world." Geoffrey agreed.

At that particular moment they were interrupted by several loud gunshots, an occurrence so ordinary at St Trinian's that neither man even flinched. Loud footfall came towards them at ridiculous velocity. Geoffrey barely had time to recognize Maggie as she raced past.

"You crazy slapper! The whole gym class saw it!" the Cheltenham girl screamed over her shoulder, not slowing for a moment. Hot on her heels, Kelly burst onto the patio and paused to squeeze off three more rounds at the girl before resuming her chase. Both men watched as the two former students raced, screaming and shooting, out of sight.

"And that's what they chose." Carnaby wondered. He and Geoffrey gazed at each other, for a moment both longing for the panacea that made such realities vanish. Then they both remembered Matron taking off her bra and shuddered.

* * *

><p><em>I'm not saying you <strong>have<strong> to review. But if you don't I may get bored and put Belle in Bond's bed. Just saying . . ._


	7. Old Acquaintances

_Right, we have here a Good News/ Bad News situation.  
><strong>Good News<strong>: I schlepped all over creation to find a computer that let me open my flash drive AND had sufficient internet connection for an upload and HALLELUJAH! An update!  
>Further Good News: No one has to review!<br>**Bad News:** No one has to review because I won't actually be around to read them. I wanted to post this chapter as an apology for the fact that I won't be updating for a long time. Traveling for the summer so I won't be writing or reviewing in the manner to which you've become accustomed._

* * *

><p><strong>Old Acquaintances<strong>_  
><em>

Belle walked peacefully through the Coloba Causeway, the most chaotic market in Mumbai. She always felt most relaxed and comfortable when surrounded by the most noise, activity and potential for injury. _Just like home._ She smiled, lifting a large mango and smelling the sweet skin before setting it back down in one of the thousands of colorful baskets lining the crammed roadway.

_Need to find something for supper,_ she mused, eying the stalls of fresh fruits and local ingredients that were interspersed with goods and souvenirs. Their stay in Baghdad had forced the girls to discover a heretofore undiscovered hobby: cooking. Partly because you could only stand so much schwarma and falafel; mostly because Kelly shot three suicide bombers in one week and was sick to death of having dinner interrupted. So they had tentatively begun buying ingredients and testing them out. It turns out cooking an actual meal is far easier than making plastic explosive from bleach.

From their first combined effort of spaghetti marinara they were hooked. Most nights Annabelle prepared dinner and afterwards Kelly cleaned up the disaster (keeping the kitchen clean while cooking was an elusive skill) as they chatted. On weekends, or if Jones got home early, they cooked, ate and cleaned together; simplifying but enhancing each step of the process. Also prolonging it since being in the small kitchen together presented all sorts of tempting diversions. (They had, fortunately, learned to turn the stove off before getting too distracted.)

_Haven't done fajitas in a while,_ Belle noticed a stall of spices. They'd both become enamored of Mexican cuisine while staying in California. At some point, Belle knew, they would be stopping off at the MI7 branch in Mexico City. Until then, she had to make do with online recipes and translating names of spices. (How many different ways could the world say 'Coriander?') _Have to go to Crawford Market, they won't have the right ingredients here._

She'd been to enough markets now, in Asia, Africa and the islands, to have a feel for what was authentic and what had been engineered. Coloba definitely had the feel of a tourist attraction. That didn't change how much she loved it though; sometimes the artificial completed the organic. Besides, only here could she watch white people from all around the world panic as though they were about to get robbed, raped and infected with malaria all at once.

"Fritton?" a woman's voice from somewhere in the crowd called out and Belle immediately stopped, looking for the caller. A 40-something woman a bit shorter than herself pushed through the knot of tourists to stand before her, gazing with frank surprise.

"I'm sorry?" Belle wondered if there was another person of her own name and description because she simply had no idea who this was that had called to her.

"You're in India early! Smashing! I hadn't thought to catch up to you girls." the stranger grinned, a shining white smile set off against tan skin. Her hair was dark auburn but sun streaked. All in all, she looked too be far too vivacious and outdoorsy for anyone Belle might know. The girl was, however, immediately gripped with a strong urge to know her. There was something to the weather-beaten demeanor, the all-terrain boots and backpack worn casually against Alexander McQueen clothes that demanded acquaintance. There was a very good chance this was the woman Belle would be one day.

"I hate to be rude but have we met?" Annabelle knew better than to pretend.

"Yes, just now," her cryptic smile seemed oddly familiar, "Shall we do dinner tonight, let dear Kelly do the proper introductions? I'll pick you girls up at your place, say 6-ish?"

"Uhm. . .Okay?" Belle hesitated, wishing she had more information at her disposal. The woman had a dark cigarette in her hand and she exhaled a puff of spiced smoke before answering.

"Perfect. See you then." she grinned and began to stride back into the rhythm of the crowd.

"Wait! You need the address!" Annabelle called and saw with relief the stranger pause and spin around.

"Don't be silly, darling. I'll have that before tea." she smirked and walked backwards, disappearing into the crowd. Well, this certainly topped the 'guess what happened today' list. Plus, it solved her dilemma about dinner.

* * *

><p>Kelly arrived back from MI7 in unusually good spirits. She'd just learned how to say 'bugger off,' in the 18 official languages of India. That was practical education, that. She tossed her satchel across the room and pulled off her shirt, eager to be rid of the smell of sweat and gunpowder.<p>

"Did you get my SMS?" Belle came out of the bedroom, still attaching an earring to complete her 'understated coquette' appearance for the night.

"No?" Kelly paused, taking in the brunette's seductive garb, "But I like whatever the idea was."

"We're going out." Belle sighed but couldn't keep the smile from her lips as she dragged Kelly to the wardrobe. After her shower, Kelly listened to Belle explain her morning encounter in the market. Short though it was, it didn't finish until Jones had finished her makeup and begun getting dressed. It took longer because Kelly kept asking for more information. It set off a lot of warning bells. Someone who knew Belle on sight? Knew Belle was with Kelly? Anyone with that information was a close enough friend that Annabelle would recognize them. Kelly paused in rolling the fishnets up her leg.

"What did she look like?"

"Medium height. Dark hair, dark eyes. Athletic build." Belle struggled to remember, frustrated with the nondescript details. That could've been director Hall, except she wouldn't have been surprised by Belle's presence in Mumbai.

"Athletic. You mean sporty? Or military?" Kelly pulled the stockings up and rearranged her short skirt.

"Military. There was definitely a hint of boot camp around her shape." Belle recalled as she threw her mind back to the moment in the market. Kelly felt a smile spreading across her face.

"Smoked black cigarettes?" she felt like she might burst, so certain of the coming answer and what it meant.

"Yes, actually. Smelled like cloves." Belle nodded, recalling the spicy scent of the smoke that had tickled her nostrils. Kelly let out a sudden laugh of total, happy surprise.

"I can't believe it! Bloody can not believe it!" Jones grinned while pulling on a fresh skirt and shirt.

"What? Kel, who is she?" Belle demanded. She couldn't get an answer. She couldn't even get her girlfriend to pause as she raced from one part of the bedroom to another, frantic to get ready. The ringing doorbell froze them both. Belle gave Kelly a skeptical glance but went to the door to receive the visitor.

"Evening, Annabelle. I hope Kelly had enough time to get ready. I did give you 35 minutes to get her caught up."

"Well, she does seem a bit -" Belle's comment was interrupted by Kelly appearing in the doorway.

"Bloody hell! It really is you!" she grinned and ran to the newcomer, enveloping her in an enthusiastic hug.

"Kelly, luv! Christ, look at you! What did you do to your hair?"

"My hair? Yours! When did you go so light?"

"Four years south of the equator, darling. Coal goes blond down there!" the woman laughed and embraced Kelly again.

"Kel, you going to let me in on all this?" Belle finally asked, tired of standing on the spectator's sideline. Jones broke away from the older woman and grinned, pulling Belle forward with an arm around her waist.

"Annabelle, this is my mum. Mum, this is our Belle." Kelly introduced with no small tinge of pride in her voice. Belle stared at the older brunette that was smirking at her. No wonder the smile had seemed so familiar.

"Pleased to meet you, Belle. I'm Angela; named for my gran, an original St. Trinian true bred." she struck out one hand and Annabelle shook, mind swimming to keep up with the revelations.

"Right, you had a plan for dinner? I'm famished!" Kelly announced, pulling Belle from her reverie. There was going to be hell to pay for this later; Fritton just wasn't entirely certain who she could punish.

* * *

><p>Angela Jones brought Kelly and Belle to one of Mumbai's most expensive restaurants. Exclusive yet authentic, the main dining room was surrounded by smaller private chambers either walled or curtained from view. Once they'd all ordered and the elder Jones had announced the 75£ bottle of wine 'adequate,' Belle opened her mouth to start satisfying her raging curiosity.<p>

"So, Annabelle," Angela cut her off, "You're a writer?"

"Aspiring, I suppose." Belle managed to force herself to switch thoughts as her wine glass was filled.

"She's in denial. Her first book was published two months ago." Kelly squeezed Belle's hand and took a sip of the rich zinfandel. Belle smiled, blushing a little at her girlfriend's obvious pride. She'd never been shown off before. Not to family anyway. Somehow, hearing Kelly brag about her to mum felt different from when she was being flaunted in the clubs. Pride without lust was an entirely new experience. Belle's eyes darted to Kelly's. Whoop, scratch that. Definitely still lust involved.

"I know. I picked it up when I flew through Heathrow. No Place for Saints. Cheeky title for a collection of stories about your old school. I'd have to agree with my daughter, of course. You are _quite_ accomplished." Angela stated casually, breaking their eye contact as she extended her glass in a small salute to the young brunette. The compliment was better than a nod from the Sunday Times Bestseller List.

"What sort of work do you do?" Belle made certain to thrust her own question into the conversation before Angela could slip away to other subjects. Kelly's mother paused, glancing at her daughter. Annabelle could see the silent question in the gaze: _How much have you told her?_ Kelly's own eyes revealed nothing except a trace of amusement.

"I'm an international contractor. I travel rather a lot; constantly in fact. My work comes from different governments and agencies. Aegis, Interpol, UN, MI7 - that's how I was able to keep track of you two actually. I take odd jobs of all sorts." Angela shrugged, eyes scanning the room before settling back on her audience. Belle ran the agencies mentioned through her mental files. She'd listened to Kelly and Polly talk shop often enough to recognize the common thread.

"You're in enforcement, either legal or military." she finally concluded, gratified by the surprised twitch of Jones Sr.'s eyebrow. Kelly took a sip of wine to hide her smirk. There was a pause as the waiter set down appetizers.

"Once upon a time I used to refer to myself as an International Law Enforcer." Angela conceded.

"That was back when you were doing strictly _legal_ work." Kelly observed. Her mother shot her a mildly irritated glance. The Jones women always liked to think they were the only one keeping tabs on the other.

"For the most part I still do. Occasionally an assignment requires more liberal interpretation."

"Assassination." Kelly decoded for Belle. Fritton nodded, not particularly surprised. Kelly had to have inherited her killer's instinct from someone.

The busboy came and refilled their water glasses for the seventh time in five minutes. Despite the fact no one had taken a drink. The boy just couldn't resist the temptation of three beautiful, apparently single women. He looked at them like a child in a sweet shop, unable to decide where to begin. He topped the glasses to almost overflowing. By mutual, silent accord the three women decided not to dare even sip their glasses for fear he'd have reason to return.

"Mostly I break up human smuggling rings, bust drug lords, intercept black market shipments -," she would've continued but Kelly rolled her eyes and interrupted.

"That's just to pay the bills. She's been on the same job since I was ten: Fugitive Search. Seen daddy lately?" Kelly's tone turned teasing.

"I've caught up with him three times this past year but never to my advantage. You know I missed him by just ten hours here in Mumbai?" Angela growled, stabbing an innocent samoosa.

"I'm lost, Kel." Annabelle leapt into the conversation again, finally realizing she wasn't going to be able to make sense of it just by listening to the mother and daughter trade rapid remarks. The two Jones' held silent conversation for the span of two or three breaths. They looked so alike during this exchange, eyes and expressions completely identical as they waited for the other to break. It was hard to know who won but the older woman spoke first.

"It seems Kelly would like me to recount the 'Fairytale of the Jones' with dinner." Angela sighed surrender. She waited while their dinners were served, the busboy having some quiet argument with the waiter as he tried to grab one of the serving plates for an excuse to be near the table again.

"Long, long ago there lived a beautiful - wait, that's not right, is it? Sorry, my mistake, wrong story. Kelly's father and I, yes that's the one. We met in Kuwait while we were both working as mercenaries on contract. He had such a fabulous way with stealth ops; just beautiful," she began spinning the story out for them, her eyes distant and nostalgic, "He proposed the night the Iraqis were driven out. Quite the romantic, your father, Kelly. Nothing like dropping to one knee amidst anti-aircraft fire and automatic weapons. We were all set to head for Yugoslavia that summer for a duty tour when you popped into the picture. Couldn't have violent morning sickness interfere with a raid, now could we?"

"You never threw up a single morning of your pregnancy. Dad told me." Kelly refused to accept even a smidgeon of blame. Belle shook her head slightly. Didn't Angela know that guilt never worked on her daughter? She'd tried a hundred times and given up. Kelly was immune to guilt and shame. Which was why sex was a far more effective weapon.

"No, I was just violent," Angela shrugged, "Which would've been a great reason for me to be out on a mission. Sadly, your father just wouldn't see logic. Of course, me being shackled to common sense didn't stop _him_ going off on all sorts of jobs. He made more and more contacts with unsavory references. I've no problem with the 'war for profit' blokes I worked with but these were a whole new sort of wanker. By the time Kel was born her dad was up to his arse in the black market."

"War profiteering can be _such_ a slippery moral slope." Kelly faked sympathy.

"Going from raiding rebel compounds to trading in heroin is a bit of a leap, even in the dodgy world of mercenary ethics." The older woman's scolding glance silenced the sarcastic words but not the laughing eyes.

"You're forgetting the weapons smuggling that came between. Quite natural transition if you ask me."

"I didn't forget, I was interrupted. Now belt up before I tell your girl about how you got that scar on your left arm." Threats. Almost as effective a weapon as sex. Kelly pressed her mouth into a line but still couldn't conceal her smirk.

"Scar? What scar?" Belle knew every inch of Kelly's skin. There were no scars on her left arm. Her right shoulder, yes, that was the fight with Taylor in Fourth Form. The left knee was from wall-climbing St. Trinian's east side on a bet (which she won). The handful of barely visible marks on her back were from Belle herself (most of which healed nicely after about 3 weeks of Vitamin E crème). Left arm? No, nothing on the left arm except . . .

"Her tattoo covers it. A story for another day I suppose," Angela smiled, "But back to our original narrative: Kel's father got a bit more serious after she was born. He stayed home quite a bit more. Even took her on full time, when she was old enough, while I took a few overseas contracts. I didn't realize at the time that he was coordinating weapons smuggling, as Kelly here so insightfully pointed out. Imagine my surprise on coming back from Sierra Leone and having my 4 year old asking me if she could have a Zastava like daddy was giving his friends."

"He was always letting me play with the empty magazines too. Loved those clips. All shiny and smooth." Kelly's nostalgic smile would've been heartwarming if you didn't know she was talking about a submachine gun. Angela's fond expression was the same.

"Yes. You did have such an affinity for deadly things. Remember when you got hold of your father's cartridges? She was five. She laid them all down on the backyard wall and went banging them with a hammer."

"I was trying to scare the next door boy so he'd stop pulling my cat's tail."

"Yes, I know. Too bad you hit their dog."

"He wasn't nice to Niko either." Kelly shrugged.

"Christ! I forgot that bloody cat's name. Kalashnikov. Another hint that should've clued me in on your father's business. Water under the bombed bridge, I suppose. Anyway, when I found out what he was up to we had a massive row and I threatened to kick him out, kill him and _then_ turn him in. So he promised he'd get out of the business. I'll give him credit, he kept his word." the elder Jones admitted with a hint of admiration in her tone.

"He got into heroin instead," Kelly explained to Belle, "Proper black market spiv, he was. Another reason you never needed to worry about me fancying Flash. Too much like him."

"We didn't know that right away. Just came home when Kel was six and the tosser had buggered off," Angela scowled, "I did some research and called in my contacts and favors for a few years to get a lead on him. Soon as Kel was old enough I handed her off to 'Milla and followed my first lead to track the bastard down. Been chasing him ten years now."

"To find out why he left?" Annabelle's cynical expression betrayed her sarcasm.

"To kick his arse. I've thrown him in prison 3 times. He's the lynch-pin in a massive heroin distribution operation. Sod never gets more than two years. Bloody lawyers. Next time I'll just shoot him."

"Then you'll never get him to sign the papers." Kelly waggled her finger reproachfully.

"I can be a widow as happily as a divorcee." Angela swirled the wine in her glass. Belle was silent for a moment, chewing her lower lip as she assembled the full story in her mind.

"Let's see if I've got this right. Your husband left you 14 years ago and became an international criminal in the black market. Meanwhile, you've spent a decade chasing him all over the world to get a divorce and revenge?" she saw the older woman nod and then turned to Kelly, "Remind me to never breakup with you."

"Every day. Mind, it shouldn't be hard to remember, seeing as I load the clip in my pistol every night before bed." Kelly teased.

"And store it so comfortingly under your pillow." Belle rolled her eyes. It had taken months to get used to the presence of a firearm in their bed. She'd make Jones check the safety five or six times before she could finally relax and go to sleep. Now it was just part of the routine: wash, change, load pistol, snog/shag, confirm safety, snog/shag to sleep.

"What's the last you've seen of the old man, then?" Kelly watched the busboy as he eagerly helped clear the table. His eyes had been lingering more and more often on Belle. Perhaps it was time for a hint of indiscretion?

"Firefight in Singapore. He sends his love by the way and doesn't care too much for the work you're doing."

"Well, the feeling is mutual and at least I don't have to worry about my boss cutting off my digits when I fail." Kelly slid her arm around the back of Annabelle's chair, shifting the girl closer. If the busboy came back once more to fuss with the candle she'd give her a kiss and make her point properly.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. Hall can be quite testy." Angela laughed. She topped off everyone's wine, lighting a black cigarette and taking a long inhale before blowing the spiced smoke from her nostrils. Kelly shot her a disapproving glance.

"Give it a rest, darling. We both know my work will kill me long before these things do." Jones Sr. roller her eyes. She wasn't trying to win any awards for World's Most Comforting Mother. The busboy eagerly rushed over with an ashtray for her but nearly dropped it in her lap because he was busy watching the rise and fall of Belle's neckline. _Right, that's it. _

"You look dead gorgeous tonight." Kelly turned and murmured into the brunette's ear, her voice low and sultry but just loud enough for anyone near to hear her tone. Belle chuckled, turning towards the face so close to her own. She could almost taste the wine on Kelly's lips.

"Just gorgeous enough for you to want the busboy dead." she smirked, knowing exactly what had brought on the flirtation. She rewarded the raven spy with an appreciative kiss anyway. She easily threaded her fingers into the hair that fell into Kelly's face, admitting to herself that she'd wanted to do this all night. The busboy promptly dropped a platter of empty dishes he'd been clearing from a nearby table. He stood completely still in the middle of the floor, staring as the two girls shared a very deliberate, intimate moment. He wouldn't have moved except the head waiter caught him by his collar and dragged him away, growling in Marathi.

The girls broke the kiss once they were sure the staff (and appropriate disciplines) were well away. Belle caught Angela's eyes laughing at them and she felt a hint of a blush. She'd grown so accustomed to snogging in front of her father (to torture him with the awkwardness of the situation) that she didn't even realize this was a different parent until after Kelly's tongue touched her lips. By then it was, naturally, far too late. The older woman didn't seem even slightly perturbed by the display. If anything, she approved of Kelly's tactics for establishing her territory.

"Are we keeping you from something, Mum?" Kelly inquired with an arched brow, "That's the fourth time you've looked at your watch."

Angela's face showed a flash of chagrin at having been caught. It vanished quickly behind another exhale of piquant smoke.

"You want to talk about accessories? Then what say you tell me why I don't see any ring on your girl's finger? It has been three years, Kel," she turned away from her daughter to Annabelle with a dramatic sigh, "I'm sorry, Belle, I think her father and I have traumatized Kelly beyond hope of marriage. You may well be doomed to being her plaything for the rest of your natural life."

"Mum!" Kelly hissed, patting Annabelle's back since she'd choked on a sip of wine the moment Angela mentioned rings. Young Fritton held her hands up to pause everything as she got her breath back, her face still flushed from coughing - nicely covering the blush that had violently flooded her cheeks. For Christ's sake! She was Kelly Jones' girlfriend, there shouldn't be anything on earth that could embarrass her! She was a St. Trinian's Head Girl, cool and composed to the end! Somehow, this woman and her blunt acceptance of her daughter's sexuality and relationship was bringing out her old, inhibited self. A parent in full support of her child's life choices? Impossible.

"Did I hear you right?" Belle finally managed to speak when her windpipe cleared, "You'd genuinely not care if Kelly and I decided to get married?"

"Why would I? You seem a nice enough girl. Our Kelly has never looked so happy," Angela gave her daughter a pleased smile, "Boy or girl, I couldn't really give a damn. So long as you figure out some way of giving me grandchildren."

"Mum!" Kelly shouted now, the first hint of color tingeing her cheeks as Belle laughed.

"Regardless. There are more important matters at hand. You're a bright, funny, friendly sort of girl, Annabelle. Tell me, what is your favorite weapon?" Angela leaned forward, imbuing this question with all the intensity usually reserved for religious affiliations.

"Wit," Belle replied without missing a beat and waited only long enough to see Angela's brow twitch in disappointment, "But when that fails me I have a Hogue Avenger that I adore."

Kelly grinned as she saw her mother's face light up in delighted surprise. She and Belle went to a shooting range every week, wherever they were. In some countries, they'd improvised their own. Had her mum really expected a St. Trinian's girl, _her_ girl, to be ignorant of weaponry?

"Well, I haven't got anything that fancy on me at the moment. This should suffice." Angela pulled a nondescript 9mm from her satchel. Deliberately nondescript. All the markings and numbers had been filed off.

"Mum . . ." Kelly didn't like where this was going. Angela ignored her, racking the chamber on her own pistol.

"Now, Kelly, daddy's friends will have finished all their business and planning to leave soon. Be a dear and help mummy, won't you?" Angela threw her a spare handgun and rose from her seat. Kelly stared after her mother for a half a second, eyes darting from her to Belle and back again.

"Don't get hurt!" was all she could suggest to Annabelle, throwing the pistol to the table and pulling out her own weathered weapon. Both girls swiftly followed the older woman into one of the back rooms and provided full backup in the ensuing gunfight. Kelly and Belle easily 'suppressed' any resistance while Angela caught hold of the man in the most expensive suit.

"Where's the shipment going?" she demanded, the barrel of her gun beneath his chin. The distant sounds of screaming and footsteps could be heard as the restaurant emptied, panicked by the noise of gunfire and screams. He shouted and swore at her in Hindi, which left the older Jones unimpressed.

"Kelly, grab me the knives from the table." Angela grinned wickedly. Kelly gathered up and handed over the demanded weapons. Belle knocked out a rousing thug with the butt of her handgun.

"Again. Where. Is. The Shipment. Going?" with every word the elder Jones plunged a knife through the material of his suit, pinning him to the wall. Once he was fully trapped she fondled the last knife, running her fingers over the blade. There could be little question of where she felt this last blade needed to be placed. She held it menacingly near the soon to be _unhappy _sack.

"Last chance, merchant." she grinned, her canines showing in the smile. Between the knife at his balls and the gun below his chin, the broker obviously felt it was time to fold. A hypothetical, angry customer was nothing compared to a real psychotic. He began babbling rapidly in Hindi.

"English, you wanker." Angela growled, nudging tender skin with the sharp end of her knife. His panicked words became a sharp squeal before his brain found the relevant translations.

"Taipei! Taipei, Taiwan!" he shrieked, his suit tearing as he tugged against the knives holding him to the wall.

"Perfect. Thank you. If you ever talk with a bastard named Jones again, tell him I'm right on his ass!" Angela smiled and turned away, leading the two girls to make a hasty retreat to the street. They had to take out a small contingent of reinforcing drug goons but made quick work of them. Belle was particularly pleased with the man she'd wounded as he ran straight into the aquarium and knocked himself unconscious. They ducked out a rear exit to avoid the rapidly responding police force.

Out on the street, in the humid, Indian air, the three women gathered. Angela took her weapon back from Belle and scolded Kelly for throwing hers away. Just because Kel had a handgun she preferred was no reason to go wasting someone else's useful tool. She'd never get it back from the local police department. Good thing it wasn't marked, it had three assassinations and two self-defense homicides on record.

Kelly ignored her mother and just pulled Annabelle into a tight hug. She never wanted Belle in those situations. That was the whole damn point of quitting MI7's active service! She was very close to ripping her mother apart. She should've told them she had an ulterior motive for choosing this restaurant. She should've given them the choice. She could've at least given Kelly a chance to get Belle to safety before the shooting began. Then again, Annabelle would just get angry if they did that. So Kelly held Belle close, arms wrapped tight around each other, and glared at her mother.

"Right. I'm off to Taipei, see if I can catch up with that bastard before his shipment leaves. I'm glad I caught up with the two of you, I really am." Angela spoke quietly, seeing the reproach in her daughter's eyes. She couldn't apologize, not when she'd known what she was doing. She could just try to make amends. It wasn't as if either girl minded being roped in for a bit of adventure. They just didn't like the other being in danger. Relationships made things so bloody complicated!

Kelly wasn't going to say anything in reply but Belle pulled away from her.

"We're in Asia for the next two assignments. China and Japan. You should look us up if you're in the area." Annabelle spoke up, her smile completely genuine. Angela paused, caught off guard by the sincerity of the expression.

"I just might, Annabelle. Couldn't pass up seeing my daughter in love, now could I?" the older Jones looked between the two of them before winking at Fritton. With final hugs to each of them the glorified bounty hunter bid goodbye and walked away, strolling down the street and leaving a trail of clover scented smoke in her wake.

"Kel," Belle stared, then paused speechless, "She's amazing."

"Yeah," Kel agreed, watching for the exact moment when the silhouette of her mother vanished, "Bloody amazing."

"Just, promise me your dad isn't going to pop out of the woodwork any time soon?" Belle wrapped her arm around Jones' waist as they began to walk back towards their flat.

"Not a chance. With mum on my trail he'll keep distance and a half." Kelly laughed and returned the comfortable embrace, kissing Belle's hair. They walked in silence for a few blocks, enjoying the warm touch of each others' hands and the soothing sound of familiar breathing.

"Kel?"

"Yeah, Belle?"

Quiet for a moment as Annabelle stared up at the stars above them, blocking out the dirt and noises of the city all around. She wanted to explain that she liked Angela, that it was a relief to have at least one parent in their relationship approve of them. She wanted to express how much it meant to her to see the beaming pride in Kelly's eyes when she talked about Belle and the things they'd done together. She was choked by the emotions of all the thoughts and couldn't say any of them aloud for fear she'd end up sobbing in the streets. She clenched her fingers tighter with Kelly's, determined to convey what she felt.

"I love you." she stated, leaning to kiss her cheek with the words. Kelly smiled, pulling Belle tighter to her side. She knew the young brunette well enough to know what she meant. She also knew Belle would hear everything she said when Jones held her close and murmured her own affectionate reply.

"I love you too." Kelly nuzzled against Fritton's ear, feeling the tickle of hair against her face.

"Can we get a taxi?" Belle whispered, the change in her breathing not lost on her girlfriend. The fingers clutching her arm conveyed a world of urgent want.

"Hell, yes!" Kelly grinned, throwing one arm wide to the street.

* * *

><p><em>That's it for me for I dunno how long. Net cafes in Shanghai suck. You've all been brilliant - I have every expectation of being dazzled when I return!<em>

_I reiterate: Shanghai public internet SUCKS.  
><em>


	8. Amongst Enemies

_I'm sorry for going off a bit when I submitted "Where is the Love" - travel sickness makes me horribly opinionated and I retract all insulting/offensive comments. With apologies. _

* * *

><p>"Hold up. You told me you haven't spoken with your mum since the end of Fifth Form!" Polly interruped Kelly's story, her words slightly muffled by the cutting probe she held in her mouth as she wired a hacking computer into the controls before her. Reunited for the first time in five months they had a lot to catch up on.<p>

"I haven't. Over four years of dead silence between us!" Jones protested, both hands holding either pliers or tweezers to keep wires and cables out of the Geek's way as she violated the machine.

"Then how'd she know about Fritton? What she looked like? Or that she was with you? How'd she even know you lot were in India?" Polly spat the probe into her hand to cut through several cables and expose the copper filaments, twisting them together in a new combination.

"She's a St. Trinian, Pol. She was at the school back in the days of Belle's aunt and the director! Took the tribes some digging in the library to find the Headmistress' pictures but they're definitely there, bad 80's hair and all. They overlapped by a few years. Near as I can figure none of them ever lost touch with the old girls' gossip channel."

"Bloody useful. We should set the Posh Totty up with their own radio channel for us to all stay in touch." Polly suggested thoughtfully, chewing her lower lip as she concentrated on getting the hacked system to do her bidding.

"You want to call Saffy and try to have a sensible conversation on air?" Jones' eyebrow arched in tired rebuke. She sometimes wondered if Polly had already forgotten what some of their classmates were like. Letting a Totty manage a radio program would be a crime on par with letting a four year old play with lighters but even more dangerous.

"Fair point. Just bloody strange, your mum knowing your life so well all this time."

"Not really. Remember in the lower Sixth when the network got hacked?"

"Hell! Took me months to get those mirror viruses cleaned out!" Polly growled, the memory obviously still fresh. The Geek took such trespasses very personally.

"Pretty sure that was her. She must've decided she wanted to keep an eye on me."

"Piece of work, your mum." Polly shook her head as she tapped commands into her computer, overriding the programming.

"And a half." Kelly agreed with a sigh, wishing briefly she could've been an orphan. Only her mother could turn maternal instinct into a global spying operation. Being tracked around the world for years was disturbing enough, now she had to deal with digital nagging over her cell and email. Belle didn't even WANT a ring!

"That should do it," Polly finished typing and began disconnecting the wires, "Try it out. The code is the year after we graduated."

"Why the year after?" Kelly's eyebrow danced up suspiciously. Polly was never random; every number, code, trigger and name had a reason.

"Cause that was when you finally pulled your head out your arse." the Geek smirked as she closed her laptop. Jones rolled her eyes and tapped the number into the keypad, followed by her own order. A loud humming noise immediately followed as the primitive computer obeyed its new programming. The vending machine began vomiting out Red Bulls at a rapid rate.

"Lucky thing you're too useful to be killed." Kelly grinned and scooped up several cans. This would make break time much simpler. Jones never could remember to carry change. She cracked the energy drink open and took a long grateful swallow. There could never be too much caffeine. Four red bulls _might_ get her through the day.

"Belle keep you up all night again?" the redhead teased, packing her tools away and swiping one of the cans from Kelly's clutches.

"Maybe." Jones' tongue ran across her smile. She knew the Geek assumed they were up all hours shagging. Last night had actually been sleepless because she and Annabelle sat up on the roof watching the city lights and talking. Kelly just wasn't going to share that with her friend. Her phone went off before Polly could make any editorial comments. Glancing at the ID Jones' smile grew wider.

"Director Hall." Kelly greeted her boss. Right on time.

"Jones, I just wanted your assurance that the strange activity in the Nikkei has nothing to do with the fact that my two best deviants arrived in Tokyo three days ago."

"Director, you have a very suspicious mind," Kelly was glad her employer couldn't see her smile, "That's a bit like me thinking you'd know how it is every time I change my email address my mum has the new one in less than a week."

Polly just shook her head, stifling a chuckle. Hacking the TSE had been a diverting way to spend their first night in Japan. Besides, focusing on the Arrowhead system kept her distracted from Belle and Kelly's heavy snog session. Couldn't even trust them to hold the torch steady.

"I suppose if the traders, bankers and financiers of the world destroyed the economy it can't really be hurt by a bunch of school girls." Hall sighed, trying to sound irritated but unable to mask the hint of pride in her tone.

"She's obviously forgotten what school she's dealing with." Kelly remarked once she was sure the call had ended. St. Trinian's were never just 'a bunch of school girls.' "Harriet has definitely made use of the delay I inserted." Polly agreed as the two walked back towards the main office. The new leader of the Geeks was quite ambitious with the tribe's investment strategies. Amazing what a 2 millisecond pausing function could do.

Kelly spotted the branch supervisor at her desk, apparently briefing a new arrival. All transfer agents had to be routed through her when they arrived for assignments, it was part of learning how to coordinate the branches. Mostly she was learning that every secret service agent on the planet was a colossal tosser. The women were almost as bad as the men. It was hard to decide what was more annoying: the over-inflated egos, the compulsive sex drives or the nearly pathological competitiveness. Put any two field agents in a room and they would instantly want to either shag or shank each other. Either way, Jones always ended up using a Tazer to break things up.

"Time to break in a new toy." Polly remarked as she also spied the agent with his back to them. The supervisor nodded to the approaching women, summoning them for introductions. _No, I was just going to try to work at my desk with a stranger's ass on it._ Kelly didn't even bother hiding the roll of her eyes.

"Agent Jones will compile your stats and update your profile with any relevant progress." the older man finished his comments and left, allowing the new arrival to turn around. Kelly, to her eternal credit, didn't even blink. This just wasn't going to be her year.

"Fields?" Bond wasn't quite so effective at hiding his surprise.

"Actually, it's Jones, Mr. Bond. It's been quite some time since our paths crossed, hasn't it?" Kelly forced her tone to stay neutral, suppressing the screaming irritation that was clawing at the back of her throat. She extended her hand in professional greeting. Polly's eyes had gone huge but she clamped her lips into a thin line, holding her breath to see if that hand was going to turn into a fist.

"You'll have to forgive me for assuming it would've been much longer. Never, in fact." Bond couldn't just shake her hand. That was far too pedestrian for such a prat. No, he had to lift her hand to his face and kiss the fingers briefly in the old 'look how suave and charming I am' style. _Christ, if he could just shag himself he'd be the happiest man on earth._

"I decided I didn't care for being dead." Kelly shrugged, pulling her hand away as quickly as possible without making it too obvious. Where was the damned sanitizer when she needed it?

"And MI7 was your upgrade on the afterlife?" James inquired with a spark of humor.

"More like a suspension. I'm sure hell will still be there when I'm ready. Have you been traded from MI6?" Kelly sincerely hoped she wasn't going to spend the rest of her career bumping into this sod. If Bond had been transferred to MI7 . . ._I will kill Hall before I quit._

"Just doing a brief collaboration. Apparently the JIC would prefer this assignment be carried out with a touch of restraint." Bond's face clearly expressed his annoyance with the orders. Discretion was not his forte. Anything that caused less than £1 million in damages, permanent hearing loss and a small civil war was just too subtle for his taste. No wonder Joint Intelligence wanted MI7 doing the job.

_Thank you, god! I will go to church sometime this decade, I promise._

"Then what say we get to work on your available assets and resources." Jones nodded for him to sit. In the chair, not on her desk. Polly, who had her own job to care for and plenty of other things to be doing, sat in a second unoccupied chair. Kelly gave her a glance of annoyance that was completely ignored. Nothing was prying her away from this slow-motion train wreck. She was already calculating how badly she'd get hurt if she tried to turn on a camera.

"James Bond." 007 nodded greeting to the Geek, only just realizing that another female was present.

"I know." was all she replied, not hiding her in depth scrutiny.

"I assume you're the agent fortunate enough to be teamed with Fie-Jones?" he caught himself before using the fake name.

"Polly is in IT. She's redoing SIS' networks." Kelly interjected before her friend could go off on a much more detailed, completely unnecessary explanation of her work. She wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

"Then you're solo these days?" Bond's eyebrow arched up slightly, putting a social undertone into a professional inquiry. Jones felt a surge of bile rise in her throat. He was going to try to hit on her. She could tell. Damn, Belle would scoop his eyes out with a rusted spoon if she saw how he was looking at her right now. She would use a tranquilizer dart, tie him down and then slowly dissect him in one-inch increments. _Christ, if he only knew! Belle's wanted to spit in his face for so long . . ._

The twitch of thought caused a sudden flash of mischief in her eyes.

"Actually, no. Why don't we have dinner tonight? I'm sure Annabelle would love to meet you." Kelly's lips began to curve into a smile. Polly's gaping eyes whipped around to stare at her friend, mouth dropping open. Jones could grow an additional head and the Geek wouldn't have been this shocked.

"Ah, Annabelle. Is that your partner now?" Bond perked up at the thought of dinner with two women - at least one of whom was hotter than sex in the Sahara.

"You could call her that." her smirk grew into a wicked grin that only someone as ignorant as 007 would completely miss. Polly knew she wasn't invited. That wasn't going to stop her moving heaven and earth to get a spy camera into whatever restaurant Kelly chose.

* * *

><p>The hardest part of the entire day was telling Annabelle. Jones had never seen a reaction like that. Just telling her that 007 had shown up at the MI7 office was explosive. The younger girl had been furious when she found out that man (the one man on Earth she wanted dead by any means) was even in the same hemisphere. Hearing that he'd dared speak to Kelly took her well out the other side of rage. The jealousy that flashed up in her eyes was beyond anything Jones could've imagined. It was ten times deadlier than what Kelly herself had felt towards Belle's admirers.<p>

The name 'Bond' caused a typhoon of emotions to storm across her face. The girl had gone off on a passionate rant, gesturing violently as she stalked back and forth. She wanted to leave the city right now; the whole country in fact. Damnit, with that wanker around she wanted Kelly completely out of SIS and retired to fruit farming! The anger, hate and jealousy were loud and vibrant. It was the pain, sadness and fear underneath that had ripped Kelly apart. She'd caught hold of the pacing girl, wrapping her in a tight embrace and murmuring affectionate assurances in her ear until she felt the angry breathing and tensed muscles calm.

"I want to see this bastard." Belle growled, eyes flashing with murderous plans. Kelly just laughed. She'd expected as much, she really had. Over the past two years Belle brought him up from time to time, always with questions; wanting to know more about this would-be rival. The news of their dinner plans brought a malevolent smile to her face. Of course, Annabelle wasn't thrilled with the idea of sharing Kelly with him for the evening until it was explained that the entire purpose of the night was to prove to Bond, once and for all, that Kelly was _not_ available. Fritton would be making that her mission.

Kelly's only real doubt was whether Belle could control her temper. She'd seen the girl do incredibly stupid, violent things when she was truly angered. Like getting into a naked knife fight with a Chav that had interrupted their late morning private time during one of Kelly's visits back to the school. It was quite possible the younger girl would stab 007 before the first course started. Kelly wouldn't be overly upset if that happened but it would mean a good deal of paperwork.

"Help me with my necklace?" Belle interrupted Kelly's musings. The dark-haired girl looked up, surprised she hadn't noticed the sound of high-heeled footsteps approaching. She felt her mouth go dry at the sight that greeted her. The tiny black cocktail dress clung to Belle's figure. Strapless and short it showed far more than it concealed. Kelly swept her eyes over the miles of exposed flesh. It was amazing that the girl could look even more tempting in a bit of clothing than completely naked. That dress was screaming to be ripped off. Kelly licked her lips, fancying she could already taste skin.

"Are you planning on making me the jealous one tonight?" Jones rose from her chair, not even trying to hide her predatory expression as she approached and took the necklace. When she dressed like this Annabelle was like a secret treasure; Kelly torn between the proud urge to show her off and the selfish desire to keep her totally hidden.

"Just making sure we're on the same page for the evening." the young brunette laughed, giving Jones a flirtatious wink before turning around.

"I'm not the one dressed to tease." Kelly pointed out, taking a breath of the perfumed scent on Belle's skin. She'd actually been careful to wear a dress that was more professional than most of her evening wear. Granted, neither of them owned a skirt that reached their knees but she had chosen her more most modest garb. Straps AND a small jacket. She figured the less she gave Bond to look at, the greater his chances of survival. She swept the waves of soft brown hair off Belle's shoulders and away from her neck, noting the way the girl shivered at the touch. _Someone's all wound up._

"You live to tease, Kel," Annabelle sighed, feeling the fingers that were deliberately lingering in their task, tracing her shoulders and neck, "Besides, you roll out of bed looking like sex."

"That's cause I roll out of a bed with you in it, Belle." Kelly purred, leaning in and placing a feather-light kiss at the base of her neck. She was rewarded with a soft whimper, making her smile wider. Kissing Annabelle was like doing shots of tequila: one led to another and another and another . . .

"You're trying to get out of the dinner." Belle gave a weak protest, even as she tilted her head to one side to give the teasing lips more room to work.

"I'm trying to get you out of this dress." Kelly corrected her without interrupting the pattern she was creating. _If I ever get tired of this someone had better shoot me._ She could feel the war raging in her girlfriend, mind and body fighting a grudge match to make their vote heard. Her graceful muscles twitched and clenched as she debated fighting back vs. total surrender.

"You will. Just not before that prick knows he's never touching you again." Jealousy won out over lust and Belle spun around, jaw set and eyes determined. Jones had the definite feeling that Belle would shag her on the table if that was what it took to make her point. _Damn, this is going to be fun!_ Kelly grinned and kissed Belle before escorting her out to meet her nemesis.

* * *

><p>James Bond had carved himself an illustrious career in the secret service by always surviving and succeeding. He managed both tricks by being exceptionally quick witted, observant and a good judge of character. On being introduced to the striking brunette named Annabelle he salivated for only a second. His glance took in the proprietary grip with which she held Jones' arm and gave Kelly a quick look of recognition. He didn't have to be told. Jones saw the faintest flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he covered himself with a charming smile and kissed Belle's hand. That was the survival instinct coming to his rescue.<p>

He wasn't enough of an ass to be insulted by the existence of lesbians (a label neither girl applied to themselves). He was just enough of an idiot to think it improved his chances for a threesome. Kelly had expected as much. Fortunately, the hope of seducing them both at the same time put him on his very best behavior. Whole minutes of conversation would pass without Belle contemplating her fork as a weapon.

"How long have you known each other?" he inquired, sipping his third martini. The girls exchanged a brief glance, both knowing he wasn't interested in when they met.

"We've been together over three years now." Belle answered the question he had been too polite to ask. She took a healthy amount of pleasure in spelling that out. Three years.1,095 days. 65,700 hours _she_ got to be with Kelly Jones.

Kelly watched his face as he counted backwards. _That's right._ She saw his eyebrow dance up a fraction as he realized roughly when their relationship started. _More than six months before I had to play damsel in distress to your dashing hero. _His glance towards her was only slightly surprised, mostly just chagrinned. Now he knew why Annabelle had maintained some form of physical contact with Jones the whole evening. She'd even eaten with her left hand just so she could keep her right on Kelly's wrist. He finally understood that _he_ was the intruder tonight. It was not his role of choice.

"Well, here's to a woman who found a way to make love and life in the service work," James raised his glass in salute to Kelly, "A trick I have yet to learn."

"I think there's some sort of saying about dogs and tricks." Kel smiled as Bond made a dramatic sound of offense. He _was_ old; compared to her and Belle anyway. At least he could be gracious and fairly good-humored about the whole matter.

"Tell me, in fairness, why did we meet under such false pretences?" he leaned forward now. They were finished with their meal so there was less risk of serious talk causing indigestion. Jones raised her glass to her lips to buy a few seconds of thought. This turn of conversation had to be handled delicately. Like an egg made of blown glass. She could feel Belle holding her breath.

"The director of MI7 needed to stage my extraction from MI6. A mission fatality seemed the simplest method." Kelly carefully avoided all mention of manipulating the hell out of 007 or the fact it had been part of her assignment. Bond studied her, running her words through his internal lie-detector and apparently not hearing any warnings. It was probably a tad faulty after 9 ounces of gin.

"It was a convincing cover. I rather fancied your hair that other color, though. Did you see her in strawberry?" he directed the question to Belle. Jones didn't like where this was going. He was being stupid. Nothing new; just dangerous.

"No." Annabelle wished the waiter hadn't already cleared her cutlery. She was feeling the desire to fondle a sharp fork. She wasn't even sure why.

"Very striking. Of course, with her skin I'm sure she could pull off any color she chose. But strawberry blonde was very . . .innocent."

"Kelly is very good at pretending to be many things she isn't." Belle quipped, her smirk suggesting a light hearted joke but the flash of her eyes telling a different story. _Like straight, free or even vaguely interested in you._

"So, I imagine. It's always the attention to detail that sells the story, isn't it? I found her terribly convincing. She's remarkably," he paused, searching for an appropriately suggestive but tactful word, ". . .thorough."

_Sodding bollocks! He's trying to tease her. Bloody juvenile. He's deliberately trying to get under her skin!_ Kelly realized his intent with a start. It was working too. No one else - especially not Bond - would be able to see that Belle was getting upset. In public settings, her anger had a way of shifting the temperature of the air around her without ever coming through in her face. Kelly could feel the heat rising. _Best get her out of here before -_

"Kel, something in this dress is bothering me. Could you help me fix it?" Annabelle got to her feet. Jones nodded quickly, rising before she even understood the question.

"Excuse us a moment won't you, Mr. Bond?" Belle smiled so sweetly at the MI6 agent it was impossible to imagine the violent desires raging behind her eyes. He nodded quite gallantly, urging her to see to any discomfort.

Belle led Kelly to the lavatory. In small, expensive restaurants like this one it was a full private bathroom. Complete with a lock on the door, which Annabelle set the moment they were both inside. Kelly heard the click of the deadbolt and smiled. _Knew it._

"So your dress is bothering you, is it?" she teased, turning to face the other girl but found her smile smothered in a hard kiss. Belle pressed her into the wall before the spy even had a chance to respond. Pinned between the sink and the towel dispenser, Kelly could only catch hold of Annabelle with both hands and hang on.

"I know. . .why . . .I hate him." Belle muttered between kisses and gasps for air.

"Why?" Kelly was having trouble keeping up with the attack of hands and lips overriding her thoughts.

"He's seen you," she paused to leave a mark on the smooth skin of her lovers' neck, "I can see in his eyes. When he's looking at you. He's still seeing you like he never should've."

"Never should've happened." Kelly agreed, biting her lip to stifle a moan as Belle's mouth found the pulse in her throat.

"He doesn't even care it was a lie," Belle growled, tugging at the collar of the obstructing jacket, "Just knows he was with you when I wasn't."

"Annabelle," Kelly whispered, her throat burning, "I'm sorry."

"He knows the touch of your skin, Kel; the taste." Annabelle's hands fisted her dress, clenching tight in anger, "I want him off you. The touch, the smell, the memory; I want it off!"

"So do I!" Jones gasped as teeth and nails scraped over her skin. Holy hell! How was she already this undressed? Three years and she had no idea Annabelle could be like this. It was like drowning in another person.

"He's never seen this," Belle smiled, hazel eyes admiring her handiwork in the flush of Kelly's skin, "He's never seen you at your most beautiful. Never seen the real you."

"Belle." Jones' whimper was a plea in itself. There was no way she was going to leave her like this. Now was not the time to be stopping. Belle pulled Kelly into another scorching kiss.

"He'll never see you scream." Annabelle let the words fall into waiting lips.

* * *

><p>"Will you or the ladies be interested in coffee, liqueur or desserts?" the waiter asked as he set an after-dinner menu on the partially vacant table.<p>

"I'll just find out." Bond got to his feet. It had been more than ten minutes since his two companions vanished with some wardrobe difficulty. He tapped cautiously on the bathroom door. Mostly he wanted to be sure the two girls hadn't slipped away without warning. His male pride wouldn't care for such evasions. No answer but the door was fastened so someone was certainly within.

"Jones?" he knocked again.

"Y-ye. . .bloody . . .Yes!" Kelly's voice came back, breathless and quavering ever so slightly.

"The waiter wants to know if either of you would care for coffee."

Silence, except if he listened carefully he could hear heavy breathing and some whispers.

"Or would you prefer liqueur?"

"Yes!" the enthusiasm of her answer was completely disproportionate to the question. If Bond weren't such an unwavering gentleman he might allow himself a few scandalous theories.

"I'll just order for you then. Will you two be long still?"

"I-I-" Kelly's answer vanished in a choke.

"Jones, are you coming?" Bond repeated himself.

"I - Christ! Yes! Yes! I'm coming!" the final words were a drawn out yell that would've left a less disciplined man _very _embarrassed. James just concentrated on taking a few slow, deep breaths and quickly returning to the table; thinking a lot about bloody gun battles and dismembered bodies. He called up the memories of loud gunfire, deliberately trying to drown out the echoing sound in his ears.

He ordered and received a decanter of cognac before the two women finally returned. They shared a vivid flush to their skin and hastily smoothed hair, not to mention recently reapplied lipstick. Were he the prying sort, 007 would've noticed the splashes of color along Kelly's collar. As it was he had to focus to keep his eyes from lingering on the raised, red scratches on Belle's naked shoulders. The waiter nearly poured liquor onto the table when he returned and saw their state. Neither girl could completely suppress their tiny smirks.

"Would you, I mean, either of, or any! Would any of you care for dessert?" the waiter fumbled with the menus as badly as he stumbled over the words.

"I think I've already had enough." Belle's sated smile grew wider, eyes still lingering on Kelly. The raven spy's giggle was a story in itself. A small whimper escaped the waiter as he left, tripping on his own feet. His roommates weren't going to believe this one.

"Well, Miss Jones," Bond cleared his throat to draw their attention, "Time in your company is always stimulating."


	9. Closure

_I honestly never thought I'd come back to this - the context in reality was a bit too much. But I think for the sake of closing doors and moving on I want to post this last chapter that I never did. Life needs closure, right?  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Return<strong>

* * *

><p>Belle hugged tighter to Kelly's waist, feeling the speed of the wind against her face as they accelerated. She'd never ridden blindfolded before and it compounded the adrenaline of the experience a hundred times. Every turn and change of speed, every brush of friction with traffic and the sounds of other drivers were all amplified to levels she'd never imagined. All her focus was pushed into her senses. The crackle of Kelly's leather jacket beneath her fingers, the rhythmic swell and fall of her breathing, the smell on the skin of her neck where her collar and helmet left a scant inch of flesh exposed; it bordered on intoxicating. Then again, Annabelle had always know that Kelly Jones was her drug of choice, her eternal addiction.<p>

"You're not planning on causing an accident around the Arc again are you? It took Polly ages to erase the police video footage from last time." Annabelle teased.

"Not worth it. She says the Gendarmarie have my tags registered and put me on the watch list. I'll get fresh plates then take them for a run around." Kelly laughed back. She was quite proud of that stunt. What she'd _really_ wanted to do was TP the Eiffel Tower but Polly absolutely refused to help her modify the requisite rocket launchers. So she settled for causing hell by circling the Arc de Triomphe a dozen times, dropping small ground fireworks into traffic. The effect was delayed but the ensuing havoc took down 8 Renaults, 3 Opels, 2 Citroens and a very pissed off Volkswagen.

"So what are we doing?" Belle asked for the twentieth time.

"You'll see, luv." Kelly's laughing answer conveyed her brilliant smile directly to Annabelle's imagination. Most times Fritton could wheedle information out of Jones, or gather hints and clues to have some idea of the coming surprise. This time Kelly wasn't budging, she'd kept Belle in total darkness - literally.

The bike came to a halt and Kelly helped Belle off.

"Now?" she demanded, yanking off her helmet and starting to fuss the blindfold.

"Not yet. Patience is a virtue, remember?" Kelly grabbed her hands, pulling them away from the blindfold and kissing her once for reassurance.

"No St. Trinian's girl has ever been virtuous, Kel." Belle protested but couldn't stop smiling.

"C'mon. Just follow me." Kelly kept hold of both her hands and led her, step by step to their destination. Carefully talking her up the steps, guiding her around corners, warning when they were going on a lift, etc. The only thing Belle could hear was their echoing footsteps on marble floors and announcements over a loud speaker, all in French. She wasn't positive but it sounded like a warning of imminent closing time. It was 17:30 when they left the flat so it must be near on six. What places closed at 6 pm on a Saturday? Belle strained to listen for any English, hoping for _some_ sort of clue as to their location.

"Right, just pause now. Bonsoir, Conservateur. Sommes-nous trop tôt?" Kelly spoke to someone else in the room, her rich, sultry tone perfectly suited to the sensual sounds of French.

"Directement à temps, Mme Jones. Tout est prêt." the answering male voice sounded oddly nervous. Most Frenchmen that Belle had listened to all managed to sound like sexy versions of Jean Reno. This man had more of a hesitant, not-too-familiar-with-women sort of voice. But then, Kelly could bring out that reaction in any man.

"Parfait. Je vous remercie encore une fois, tellement. Je suis tout à fait dans votre dette." Kelly reached back and took Belle's hand then, squeezing it tight as sincerity enriched her tone.

"Non-sens. Nous étions redevables à vous pour votre aide. Je suis seulement trop heureux pour rendre une faveur si magnifique." there was a definite sound of protest, in the classic Gaelic 'non, non, non' sort of way. Belle was pretty sure he even snorted.

"En plus, c'est Paris. Nous sommes une ville dans l'amour avec les amoureux. Je suis simplement un domestique de la romance." he added this with a satisfied chuckle.

"Merci, monsieur. Bonne nuit." Kelly's close of the conversation was followed by retreating footsteps echoing out of the room. There was silence for a moment, Belle was certain she heard a loudspeaker announcing the building was closed. She felt Kelly slip behind her and wrap her arms around Belle's waist, chin resting on her shoulder.

"Right, luv. Now." she whispered and Annabelle, who'd been on the verge of trembling all evening felt a shiver race down her spine. She carefully lifted the blindfold away, keeping her eyes closed for a split second before opening them to take in the full view.

It was an art gallery. An empty art gallery with one painting hung in the place of honor on a spacious wall and perfectly lit. Vermeer.

"Kel -!" Annabelle stared at The Girl With the Pearl Earring, a treasure from their past that she hadn't laid eyes on for more than four years.

"She's on tour again. As soon as I heard, I knew I had to bring you to see her. After all, she's where it all began, right?" Kelly smiled as well, gazing up at the ancient smile that had ignited all their adventures and ensuing romance.

"But she - we - are we in the Louvre?!" Belle dropped her voice to a whisper, afraid of being caught at something forbidden. She hadn't even processed the rest of the scene around them but now she realized there was a table set in the room, complete with champagne and some small foods.

"We are. I helped the Curator expose a ring of forgers that were targeting the museum and we caught them in the act. Polly upgraded their surveillance a bit more, as well. He was only too happy to help me when I called." Kelly guided her to a chair. Belle sat, still in shock. They were having a candlelight, champagne dinner in the middle of the Louvre.

"From art thief to protector? You've come a long way." she finally laughed, surrendering to the situation in all its absurdity and perfection. Kelly poured her a glass of champagne and just smiled, handing it across.

"We both have, Belle." she agreed and they clinked glasses in a toast.

"Alright, so if you're bringing me here, it must be for some major reason. Some big news? Please tell me you're not going to propose." Belle took a sip and joked about her suspicion.

"Actually . . ."

"Kelly, come on. We talked about all that! You know -" Annabelle felt her stomach roll on itself nervously. No way. Kelly wouldn't do this to her, she wouldn't put her on this kind of spot when she _knew_ her girlfriend's view. Kelly just laughed, grabbing Belle's hand to prevent the fist from clenching with anxiety.

"No, Annabelle. Relax. I brought you here to tell you we're going home." Kelly shook her head.

"I know - next month, for Aunty's wedding, right?" Belle breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"No, I mean, we're _really_ going home. The assignment is done, Belle. They're finally bringing us back to London."

"London? For good? Really?" Belle felt her heart race at the thought. Thirty-three months. They'd been traveling for two years and nine months. They were really going to go back?

"Really. Unless you _want_ to continue traveling a few more years." Kelly teased. She knew Belle's wanderlust had been satiated for some time. They'd been having grand adventures but both were starting to feel the constant homesickness of being away from friends, wishing they could just stop and at least revel in the souvenirs and memories they'd accumulated for a while.

"Not half and you know it. I can't hardly remember what West End looks like!" Belle shook her head in amazement.

"Well, that won't be a problem. We've got a flat in St. James and the girls are busy moving our things in from storage now."

Belle stared at her, blinking rapidly because for some reason she felt like she was going to cry. They were going to actually have a home! So much of her had just felt like they'd continue this pattern forever: 3 months, new flat, new country, new language, new feelings of being lost and disoriented all over again. She had loved the excitement and the adrenaline but she got tired of accumulating knowledge only to have it wiped out after 90 days - at most! She was sick of making brief, passing friendships just to say goodbye, of learning and falling in love with a new city just in time to leave.

They were going home. Kelly would work for MI7's office in London and Annabelle could write and they could visit all their friends and see the school as often as they wanted. They could do all the boring, domestic things like buying furniture and painting walls and make a space completely their own. They could leave and travel on vacation and enjoy other cities in the full knowledge they had their own place waiting for their return.

"Kelly, this is amazing. I can't believe it. How soon?" she was holding Jones' hands tight in her own, hanging onto the anchor of solid assurance that this wasn't just some dream.

"End of the month I finish the last of the paperwork and we take our last one-way flight."

"That's, wow, just 12 days," Belle breathed as she calculated then rose suddenly to her feet, tugging Kelly up as well and pulling her close, "You know I would travel to the edge of the universe to stay with you, right?"

"Of course." Jones nodded, a little surprised by the suddenly serious turn in mood. Belle's hazel green eyes sparkled up at her with the intensity of fireworks.

"Then you'll believe me when I tell you I'm ecstatic that I can stay by your side for the rest of my life without ever having to set foot in another MI7 flat." Belle's mouth tugged into a sly smile in one corner.

"Christ, me too, luv!" Kelly laughed and hugged her close. She was pretty sure that the agency hadn't even cleaned up half the flats before their arrival and a number had obviously been vacated under lethal circumstances. If Kelly never had to bleach blood stains out of a counter again, she'd be happy. They stood in a close happy embrace for some minutes, exchanging small kisses and touches. Belle gazed at the painting on the wall, their private art Saint smiling beatifically on this outcome.

"Kelly, I do have just one question. It's a bit important." Annabelle leaned back.

"What? Just ask." Kelly insisted. Anything and everything was possible now.

"Can I get a puppy?"

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

* * *

><p>The beeping in her ear triggered a minimal reaction from Belle. With as little movement as possible she slapped the alarm off the nightstand. It hit the floor loudly and continued to beep until she reached down and smashed it again. Why couldn't alarms ever get the point the first time? And why was the snooze button always so bloody hard to find? She grumbled and rolled back over but it was too late. The wakeful activity had alerted the rest of the bed's occupants that she was conscious. Kelly's arms pulling her into a sleepy hug were welcome. The tiny paws crawling over her head were not. Particularly since they had a habit of walking straight over her cheek with claws out.<p>

"Christ! Geli! He's trying to rip my face off. I know it," Belle growled as the kitten purred and nuzzled Kelly's hair, "And now his bum's in my face. Just what I want to see when I wake up."

"You're just grumpy 'cause I forbid Orlando from sleeping on the bed anymore." Kelly laughed, shifting the Siamese to the other side of her head, restoring her uninterrupted view of Annabelle's morning face. Five years since their first time waking up together and she still found it adorable the way Belle squinted her eyes open one at a time to register daylight and then squeezed both shut in denial.

"You were playing favorites." Belle pointed out stubbornly, eyes still closed. The Welsh Corgi's head had perked up from his basket the instant he heard his name, huge pointed ears excitedly waiting for an invitation. Annabelle snapped her fingers three times, giving the puppy permission to leap onto the bed. He immediately began digging at the covers between them, looking for access under the blankets.

"See? This is why he can't sleep up here. I don't like waking up with a cold nose on my bum at 2 in the morning." Kelly pushed Orlando away, pulling Belle closer so there was no space for the puppy. Unable to engage in his favorite burrowing activity and denied any warm skin to press his perpetually icy nose against, the Corgi was content to engage in playtime with Geli. The two juvenile animals played at the foot of the bed, as they had for the last 6 months. They'd been purchased at the same time and same age. Despite the fact that Orlando was now 4 times the size of his playmate, the Siamese kitten was the undisputed master of the house. Even over the humans.

"What're you doing today?" Kelly kissed Belle's cheeked as she yawned lazily.

"Auntie asked me to come for tea. Something about school business." her words slurred into Kelly's neck as she endeavored to slide back down to sleep.

"No more than 50,000£ this time." Jones reminded her of the decision they'd made as far as credit went with St. Trinian's. After the last 100K had been spent on building a racetrack they both decided the school wasn't hurting as bad as Camilla always liked to pretend.

"Mmm. Are we going to be home for Christmas? I can't remember." Annabelle was finally starting to wake up. It usually took 5-10 minutes of cuddling and conversation before her brain accepted that it had to be alert. She would get in a terrible temper on mornings she woke up alone or had to immediately rush from the sheets; it just threw off her whole rhythm. Kelly was only too happy to coddle her towards consciousness.

"Should be. Unless you still wanted to go back to Bangkok." Kelly thought of the map in her office. White pins were all the places they'd been during her training courses. Red pins were the cities they wanted to see again. Blue were the ones you couldn't pay either girl to fly over.

"Nah. Sopranos are staying in for the winter break this year." Belle didn't even have to explain the massive ramifications of the Twins loose on St. Trinian's ground with minimal supervision. At 15 there were no longer any locks strong enough to keep them out of the military grade arsenal.

"We will definitely go stay on campus." Kelly agreed immediately, fitting in one last kiss before sitting up to stretch. Belle sighed and pushed herself up as well, taking a few minutes to give Orlando a belly rub before rising. Kelly headed to the bathroom while Annabelle went downstairs to make tea, the same routine they'd had ever since they left St. Trinian's together.

Belle smiled as she contemplated how easily the time had passed and how naturally they'd evolved with this life. She clicked the kettle on and pulled down mugs, readying a cup of Darjeeling for Kelly (milk, two sugars) and Earl Grey for herself (light cream, one spoon of honey). She listened to the familiar combined sounds of the kettle starting to heat as the shower above her also hissed and spattered.

She'd never expected something as perfect as this. She couldn't have _dreamed_ of someone like Kelly. Jones thought she didn't know but Belle had seen their electricity rates over the summer. The woman spent a fortune on cooling just so the bedroom was chilled enough for them to cuddle all night. A thousand little gestures like that cropped up throughout their daily life and Belle loved when she spotted another hint of Kelly's suppressed romanticism. Tough as nails, sure, but soft as meringue underneath.

The shower upstairs shut off at the same time the kettle clicked. Belle poured the water and took the mugs of steaming tea back upstairs. She paused at the door to the bedroom, silently watching as Kelly tried to make the bed. She was only wearing her robe and still pink from her shower. She was also too distracted to notice Belle watch as she fought with Geli about whether the bed should be made.

Kelly would pull up the sheets and throw the pillow to the head, only to have Geli immediately attack the tossed object, wrestling the massive opponent over the mattress. When he eventually rolled off the side of the bed - pillow in tow - he clambered back up via the sheets, effectively setting them skew again. If Kelly dared put him on the floor he climbed directly up _her._

His next target was the edge of the blanket that had mysteriously dared to move when Kelly was tugging the blankets even. He dug under and then rolled over three times, effectively making a kitten/blanket burrito. Kelly gave up and laughed, gathering the feisty kitten against her shoulder.

"See here, Little Soprano, this bed will be made!" she chuckled, stroking his cheek. Belle stifled a laugh. She'd originally been confused when Kelly named her cat 'Gelignite.' It was only later she found out that it was one of the Twins' plastic explosives of choice. The kitten was already a miniature demolitions expert.

Kelly set him back down on the bed. Geli assumed the affection had been a reward for his battle prowess and immediately resumed attacking the pillows.

"Geli!" Kelly protested, trying to pull him away and thereby making her hand the next target of interest. Jones sighed, watching the tiny feline terror attack her fingers while purring like an outboard motor.

"Give it up, Kel. Bed's not getting made. Worried there'll be dorm inspections or something?" Belle finally laughed, holding out Jones' mug of tea. Kelly smiled gratefully, taking a long sip before releasing a contented sigh. They rested, side by side, against the bureau, looking out at the hesitant rain sprinkling the windows.

"What time are you going in?" Belle took a deep breath, catching a hint of Kelly's freshly bathed and shampooed body. Funny how they could use the same soaps and never smell alike.

"Late start today. I can hang out a bit. You want to shower and get some breakfast?"

"Would both be group activities?" Belle inquired playfully. Kelly laughed, lacing her fingers with Annabelle's.

"Last time we showered together we ran out the hot tap. I think the geyser wanted to die."

"We could do with a new one." Annabelle persisted.

"How about you get showered and we take 'Lando for a walk? We could grab breakfast for the park."

"And leave poor Geli all alone?" the brunette faked horror.

"Oh, didn't you know? He's dating your left sandal. I'm sure he'd be thrilled with some quality time." Kelly shot right back. Belle quickly ran through a mental list of her shoes. Sandals . . .sandals . . .

"You'd better not mean my Amalfis."

"Actually it's the Cole Haans," Kelly nudged Belle towards the shower with a glance at the clock, "He sees the right Amalfi on weekends."

"Liven up that tea for you, girlie?" Camilla Fritton held up a bottle of brandy as Annabelle poured milk into her cup.

"Not yet, Aunty, thank you." Belle smiled but shook her head. She found it was best to stay dead sober around her Aunt until any and all business had finished. The Headmistress shrugged and poured a healthy dollop into her own cup and sipped with a grateful sigh.

Annabelle and Kelly visited the school every weekend. They watched games, coached the girls and provided consultation for business negotiations and espionage. Besides that, Belle regularly visited to have tea or lunch with her Aunt, who hadn't changed a bit. The wedding to Thwaites had been postponed after the First Years blew up the gazebo and for some reason the couple just never got around to completing the nuptials. Belle privately suspected it was because her aunt didn't fancy become Mrs. Thwaites the Second. Kelly was far more pragmatic - she was certain Camilla just didn't want to share the school.

"Congratulations on another smash success, lolly. This makes eight now, doesn't it?" Camilla nodded to her hard bound copy of Annabelle's latest short story collection. She always made sure to send her dearest relative a personally inscribed copy. She'd wondered if she wasn't being presumptuous - that was until she visited and saw how all her books had a place of prominent display in the Headmistress' office. Praise was very un-British, but she was glad to see her Aunt was proud of her.

"Yes. Although two were novels." Annabelle nodded.

"You've been beyond prolific. Good old Fritton genes, eh? Or should we call it Shakespeare blood?" Fritton Sr. winked.

"I think it's more having been here at this place. It would be impossible to write stories about St. Trinian's and fail." Annabelle let her gaze wander the room affectionately. She'd been so terrified the first time she sat in this office, it seemed like a different life. She'd traveled through some of her most intense changes of character in this room, at this school. She always secretly believed that was why her stories succeeded; she was just always trying to convey what St. Trinian's meant to her, had done for her.

Camilla noted the warm expression on her niece's face. There was no denying her sentiment for the old place. Fritton Sr. knew for a fact that the loves of Annabelle's life were Kelly Jones first, St. Trinian's second. Family and friends and the rest came in as distant thirds and fourths. That was the exact way she wanted it.

"Quite probably true, which is why I wanted to talk to you," Camilla snapped Belle's attention back to her, "What are you doing with yourself, girl?"

"Uhm," Belle blinked, taken aback by the sudden interrogation, "Writing?"

"No, no, I mean in the larger scope! You've got scads of money, natural talent, years of experience that people three times your age couldn't touch and to top it all off, a nauseating amount of youth still ahead of you. What are you actually planning to _do?_"

"I - I don't know. I've just been taking life as it comes." Belle shrugged, feeling a bit like a schoolgirl again, offering only half-thought answers.

"No, no. That's no sort of strategy! Annabelle, you have been given tremendous gifts by life - not the least of which being an almost repugnantly perfect relationship with the love of your life. Don't you understand, girlie? You have all the things most people spend their lives chasing: love, money, success, adventure. Isn't it time you thought about thanking the universe by returning some of the favors?"

"I'm pretty sure the last 175,000 quid we've given the school has cleared our debts with Karma." Belle cocked one eyebrow, convinced this was another play for more money.

"Nonsense, that's just money. I'm talking about having a higher purpose in your life. Annabelle, it's time you and Kelly came back to St. Trinian's."

"What?" Belle stared at her Aunt as though she'd suggested a naked swim in the Thames.

"You heard me. We need you here. Far more than London needs you out there or your publishers and agents need you nearby. You're a legend, Annabelle. You and Kelly have become icons of everything our girls can be. I need you to come back and show them how to do it!" Camilla reached out and clasped her niece's hands. She was serious. Completely and totally deadpan serious.

"I can't teach, Aunty." she protested, even though her brain was already doing excited calculations of the travel time to the school from London. It would use a lot of Petrol. It would be much easier to just live on site . . .

"Yes you can, lolly. Because you can lead by example. Teach them what you know: how to observe and describe, how to find what they love and are excited about. If you teach them to find the same passion that you found then they may not all become writers but they'll find their drive!"

Annabelle was stunned silent as her brain screamed through thoughts at warp speed. She'd said once - years ago - that there were worse fates than coming back and spending the rest of her life at St. Trinian's. She'd always entertained the idea as an option, a distant notion. A huge piece of her soul lived and breathed inside the old stone of this school. She could, maybe, possibly, teach a writing class. Just for the girls that might want it. She knew a handful had already asked her questions about writing and publishing so obviously there were at least a few that were interested. Teachers were low on the totem pole at St. Trinian's but then, they'd never had a former Head Girl come back to teach.

"But Kelly." Belle stopped her rationalizations before they got any further. She couldn't possibly entertain these ideas without Kelly. Her job was in London and Belle couldn't just decide to uproot their life to fulfill an old dream. Even though they both always talked about returning, about what they wanted to do for the school, this probably wasn't the time. Not yet.

"I talked to Kelly Jones already, Annabelle. Your girlfriend is quite enthused about the idea. In fact, it was partially hers."

"What?!" Belle felt like she'd been asking that question a lot lately. Was everyone _always_ planning her life without her knowledge?

"Actually, it was Director Hall I believe. Apparently my old schoolmate at MI7 would like a bit of a more active relationship with our dear institution. Something about starting a grooming program for potential future agents. Kelly knows more about that. In fact," Camilla rose and touched her desk intercom, "Beverly, has Jones arrived yet?"

"Yes, Miss Fritton."

"Then tell her to stop being fashionably late and bloody come in!"

The order was followed by the immediate sound of Kelly sweeping in the door, a rhythm of footsteps Belle knew anywhere.

"She told you, then?" Jones settled onto the couch beside Belle, expression expectant.

"Yeah, she told me. Kelly, how long have you been talking about this?!" Annabelle didn't like the idea of her girlfriend and aunt conspiring against her. Even though it wasn't, technically, against her. Actually it was more like they were conspiring _for_ her.

"Just the last three days, Belle. Hall brought it up to me on Monday and I had to talk to your aunt first about whether MI7 could form a partnership with the school. Once that was settled, well, it was just how we could get you on board." Kelly did look apologetic that she couldn't share more information sooner.

It had been complex, negotiating the optional curriculum and all the necessary procedures and screenings. She'd pushed hard for it, mediating between Hall and Fritton Sr. because she knew she had to make it work. She knew this was where they belonged.

"Of course, I've wanted you both back here for ages. I just wasn't going to interfere with your escapades and realizing your dreams etc. But Kelly Jones has kept you away from your rightful place long enough. You've finished with that chapter now and you have to realize: if you're truly ready to settle down then you stopped short. It's time for you to come the rest of the way home." Camilla declared with a finality that brooked no argument.

"What do you say, Belle? Is this where we finish our story?" Kelly gently prodded, holding her hand and turning Belle's cheek so she could see the thoughts racing through those perfect, sparkling eyes.

"Finish? No," Belle shook her head, smile teasing, "But we could start the sequel."

Kelly laughed and pulled Annabelle into a happy kiss of celebration, a thousand thank you's passing between their lips. Camilla let off a triumphant cheer which was instantly echoed by voices from all around. The floors above, the rooms outside, the yard beyond the windows - everywhere at once was filled with the instantaneous celebration of the entire school as they heard the news over all the wires. There were explosions in the distance as the Twins set off a victory bombs throughout the grounds. St. Trinian's favorite daughters had returned at last.

* * *

><p><strong>The End.<strong>


End file.
